


Shrine of your Lies

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pining, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, leviathan sam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: Sam’s gone crazy. That’s his first thought. Sam has finally cracked after all this time and has gone absolutely batshit crazy. It would make sense. I mean, with Lucifer riding shotgun in his head, keeping Sam awake for days upon end, never getting silence, never getting relief. And honestly, Dean wasn’t surprised. It was bound to happen even if Sam didn’t have Lucifer in his head. Hell, it could have easily happened to either one of them. With what they see on a daily basis, if you don’t get killed by the things you hunt, at the end of the day you end up in some padded room, shaking in the corner and was sent looks of sympathy while people shook their head and thought ‘poor old man who thinks monsters are real.’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this was originally for the wincest writing challenge on tumblr and i got the prompt of leviathan!sam. this wasn't supposed to be this long. not by a long shot but i started writing and i didn't stop and i finally just had to make myself end this thing because i wanted to post it. so yeah.
> 
> it's long and it's dark and don't take that rape tag lately because it does get graphic.

Sam’s gone crazy. That’s his first thought. Sam has finally cracked after all this time and has gone absolutely batshit crazy. It would make sense. I mean, with Lucifer riding shotgun in his head, keeping Sam awake for days upon end, never getting silence, never getting relief. And honestly, Dean wasn’t surprised. It was bound to happen even if Sam didn’t have Lucifer in his head. Hell, it could have easily happened to either one of them. With what they see on a daily basis, if you don’t get killed by the things you hunt, at the end of the day you end up in some padded room, shaking in the corner and was sent looks of sympathy while people shook their head and thought ‘poor old man who thinks monsters are real.’

Then second thing that crossed Dean’s mind was what the hell he did to piss his brother off this much that finally made him snap.

I mean, maybe it was the extra onions that he asked for on his burger the other day. Sam did say that he was going to kill him the next time he did that. But that didn’t necessarily deserve this kind of reaction, right? I mean, tying him up to a chair in his sleep and then creepily stalk in front of him until he woke up all the while twirling a knife in between his fingers. That wasn’t really a rational reaction. But then again, there was no rational reason for crazy. So maybe it really was those extra onions.

Dean watched as his brother paced in front of him, trying to decide the best thing to say that wouldn’t set him off completely. It wasn’t that Dean was scared that his brother was actually going to kill him the moment he opened his mouth… it was just… his brother could be unpredictable at times and with Lucifer chatting away in his head, there’s no saying what his brother might do with that blade.

So he watched and he calculated the best thing to do and waited for Sam to show him an opening to where he could say something but there never was one. It was ten steps that way, a turn and then ten steps this way. Back and forth, movements methodical like Sam was some kind of machine programmed to do the same thing over and over. All the while he twirled the blade between his fingers.

If Sam knew that Dean was awake, he didn’t acknowledge it. He continued to pace which was starting to drive Dean mad and the longer that Sam didn’t say anything, the more that Dean felt uneasy.

Nothing good ever came out of silence. Dad taught him that years ago.

Dean took a deep breath and weighed his options whether to continue to sit there in silence until Sam looked at him or speed up the process and get things moving. And honestly, he would have just sat there and waited but the bounds were starting to get on this side of painful and the quicker he got out of them, the better.

It was harder than he thought to find his voice but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and told himself to man up. This was his brother for godsake. Even if Sam had gone crazy, Sam wouldn’t kill him and Dean, well Dean would pretend to go crazy right alongside him.

“Sam.” Dean finally managed to say. “Are you alright?” Dean wanted to ask if there was a reason why he tied him up but Dean didn’t want to trigger him to do anything rash.

But Sam stopped pacing and the blade that he was spinning in his fingers ceased to spin anymore. Slowly Sam turned to face Dean and something in Dean’s stomach flipped because something was not right. There was something not right about his brother and it wasn’t that Sam had gone crazy. It went deeper than that, almost like this person who was staring back at him, wasn’t the same person that he had practically raised since birth.

Sam only looked at him through blank eyes and the hair on the back of Dean’s neck raised because this person wasn’t his brother. 

“Sam?” Dean asked again and this time the word didn’t feel right in his mouth.

There was a moment that passed and the person in front of him only cocked his head to the side, just a little bit and any doubt that Dean had, any hope that he had that this was actually his brother, completely disappeared.

Just like that a flip switched in Dean’s head and he was no longer treading carefully, analyzing every word that he said. He started to take stock in what he had within reach to get away and find his brother. His real brother.

Dean tested the knots that were tied around his wrist and it seemed that the more he struggled, the tighter they seemed to get. The same kind of knot that Dad had taught Dean and then Dean taught Sam. It was one of the first things that he had taught Sam. For a second, a cloud of doubt once again settled over him because no one but Dad and him and Sam knew about that knot because Dad was the one that had created it in the first place. So if it really was Sam then maybe that meant… maybe Sam had finally given in and gave the reins over to Lucifer.

Which couldn’t be the case because Lucifer was only in Sam’s head, a figment of his imagination that Lucifer had latched onto when he was in hell. Lucifer wasn’t actually out of the cage and he couldn’t actually control Sam’s body. It wasn’t possible.

“You’re not Sam?” Dean asked, the phase coming out more as a question than a statement and he watched the creature who was in front of him. Watching for any kind of reaction, anything that might give him a tale as to what this was because Lucifer’s meat puppet just wasn’t cutting it.

Sam… the creature… it blinked and then sat down on the bed that was across from Dean and the blade that he was holding fell beside him with a soft thump. Dean eyed the knife, trying to figure out how he could get out of his bonds and to it without getting killed. He kept coming up short on ideas.

“I’m sick, Dean.” It finally said, dropping his head into his hands and Dean felt his skin crawl at just how much it sounded like his brother.

“Maybe because you’re pretending to be my brother.” Dean snapped, the phase just spilling from his lips before he could really stop himself from saying anything. Sam always did say that Dean’s mouth was going to get them in trouble, unable to keep himself from saying all the snappy one liners and quick comebacks that came to mind.

The creature… Sam was on him quicker than he thought was humanly possible which only further cemented the idea that this thing was a monster. It’s hands rested on Dean’s shoulders, face inches from his, the knife now pressed against his throat.

“You think I want to be stuck like this? In this form? In this body?” It snarled. “I’ve tried to change. Tried to hard but I  _ can’t. _ ”

Dean furrowed his brow, looking at the near perfect version of his brother. That scar that Sam had gotten when he was only four and tripped over his own two feet that rested right over his eye was still as pale and barely visible unless you knew what you were looking for and Dean knew what he was looking for. It was a damn near perfect image of his brother.

“What do you mean? Why can’t you… change?”

“Because of you.” It spit. “It’s all because of you. Because of the thoughts. The desires. They’ve poisoned me, my blood, keeping me trapped.  _ You  _ kept me trapped.” He pressed the knife hard into Dean’s throat and he could feel the sharp edge of it cutting the soft flesh, blood welting to the surface.

Sam… it shifted its gaze, tongue snaking out as it watched the blood pool along the edge of the blade. Something twisted in Dean’s stomach and he resisted the urge to swallow, all the keep the knife from digging in deeper.

Then skin across its face seemed to ripple and shift and its breath smelled like death.

“What are you?” Dean asked, hoping a change in the topic of conversation would cause the thing to remove the knife at his throat. “A shifter?”

The thing barked out a laugh but it removed the knife from his throat regardless and took a step back. Then, without preamble, it threw its head back and its mouth open into rows and rows of black teeth and darkness. That uneasy feeling in Dean’s stomach only seemed to grow as it dawned on him on what exactly was keeping him bound.

A leviathan. A thing that couldn’t be killed. And it had him here, wearing the mug of his brother and it was blaming him for something that he didn’t even know what it was talking about.

Typical.

The sinking thought that he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive settled even deeper in the pit of his stomach.

But if this wasn’t really his brother, then where was Sam? His Sam.

“What have you done to my brother?” Dean asked when the thing in front of him finally settled back into the false mask. It wasn’t that he was expecting a direct answer… or an answer at all but there was some sort of comfort that came from asking.

Something dark crossed its face again as he sat down. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.” It said. “Maybe, just maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have trapped me.”

It surprised Dean that the monster actually told him what felt like the truth instead of gloating that he had killed Sam. Even if it wasn’t the truth and Dean relaxed just the least little bit. His brother wasn’t necessarily dead, which meant that he was alright.

“Alright…” Dean swallowed. “What do you want with me?” Dean moved his arms that were bound to the chair as if to create emphasis on the fact that he was still trapped. “What do I have to do with this?”

“Everything.” The thing replied. “You have everything to do with it. Ever since I took the form of your brother, all I’ve been thinking about is you. Every fucking second it’s been all you.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the seta but didn’t fail to plaster on that cocky smile that was a tale-tell sign that he didn’t like being singled out like that. “Listen man, I appreciate you inflating my ego and all but…”

“Will you just shut up!” It hissed, its eyes going wild with a need to suddenly hurt. Dean snapped his mouth shut. “I hear you in my head. I hear you now. I just want silence. I want to get out of this body. I want to go back to how I was before I took your brother.”

Dean still didn’t understand it all, only picking fragments up through what the creature was telling him. He was trapped within that body, within his own head. Sam was somehow keeping his trapped within that skin and somehow, in the end, it all had to do with Dean.

“So…” Dean took his chances in trying to keep a conversation up. More talking meant less killing and less killing meant more time that Dean was able to come up with some kind of plan to get out. “Do you want me to… kill you or… what?”

“You can’t kill me, Dean.” It said bitterly, like it almost wished that Dean could but on the same note, that taunting tone that was only bragging about he was this unkillable creature. “But you are going to help me. You are going to rid my body of that poison by giving  _ him _ what he wants and then, when you do that and I can change, then I’m going to kill you and then your brother real fucking slow.”

Then the thing was back on its feet, hovering over Dean with that knife back in his hand and Dean struggled against the creature as it untied the ropes that were around his ankles. He waited, watching for the perfect moment that he could make his escape. Dean stilled as it worked on the knots around his wrist, keeping his breathing even as he tried not to give away what he was about to do.

The moment that the ropes slipped from him, he pushed hard at the creature, catching it off gaurd and it stumbled backwards, the back of its knees hitting the edge of the bed, breaking his fall.

Dean wanted to grab a weapon, something to defend himself with but there wasn’t anytime to grab anything. He needed to get out of the motel room and then he needed to hide until he could find his brother.

Sam had the Impala. He had taken the keys to go down to the library because he said that he needed to do something, subtly trying to drop that he needed to distract his mind from Lucifer that was always right there. Dean had protested to that, being that Sam really wasn’t in the right mind to be driving anywhere but Sam looked at him with  _ that _ look and Dean handed them over with the idle threat of he better not scratch his baby.

He must have fallen asleep while waiting up for him and then proceeded to wake up tied and bound by a monster that looked like his brother. So that meant that he was going to have to be on foot until he found his car.

He made it all of two steps before someone grabbed a fistfull of his hair, another hand in his jacket and slammed his head down on the tv stand.

Dean groaned as he collapsed to the floor, grabbing a hold of his now pounding head. His vision blurred around the edges and then he was lifted up and was thrown onto the bed.

He was disoriented, head spinning and then Not-Sam was on top of him, roughly grabbing his wrist and yanked his arms above his head. The moment that the rough rope touched his skin, Dean’s mind seemed to clear immediately.

“No.” He thrashed underneath the monster, trying to get free despite the fact that he knew it was fruitless. This was not happening. It couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t about to be… “No. Just no. Please, kill me if you have to but don’t do this.” Dean begged.

The monster only chuckled, its mouth right next to Dean’s ear as if worked on the knots around his wrist. “Can’t have you running away on me. Not before we give your little brother what he wants.”

The knots were tight, pulling Dean’s shoulders taunt above him. Then monster yanked on his arms, testing the bonds and Dean yelped out in pain, an involuntary action that caused the monster to smirk.

Any ounce of pathetic,  _ woe is me _ , take pity that the monster once had was completely gone, taken over by the dark glint to his eyes that had Dean questioning how he ever thought that this was actually his brother.

It slithered down Dean’s body, still keeping Dean plastered to the bed by his body weight. Something warm and wet was dripping down Dean’s forehead and it didn’t take much for him to figure out that he had busted his head open when it was slammed against the tv stand. Dean still struggled under the monster, fighting against everything just trying to get free. He wasn’t going to let this happen. Not by some monster. Especially not by one that looked like Sam. Not when he had fighting those feelings for so long.

Because while Dean knew that this was a monster, it still looked like his brother, eerily so and it sounded so much like his brother and he couldn’t do this because if he just closed his eyes, it would be like his brother was actually on top of him.

A laugh brought him out of his thoughts and the leviathan was still roosted on top of him, his hands just barely resting on Dean’s thighs.

“God, you’re just as messed up as he is, aren’t you?” And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was hard, almost painfully so at just the feeling of Sam.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, choosing not the acknowledge the monster.

The laughter immediately died down and suddenly cold fingertips were gripping his chin, forcing Dean to look at it. “That’s the reason why I’m trapped.” It said sharply. “That immoral desire. It’s just burning your brother up. You’re on his mind all the time. The things that he wants to do to you, that he wants  _ you _ to do. Dean…” The creature chuckled darkly. “Your brother is really fucked in the head.”

A wave of protectiveness swelled through Dean and he lashed out against the ropes ignoring the burn in his shoulders. “Don’t you talk about him like that.” Dean hissed. “Don’t you dare. You don’t know what he’s been through.”

It looked down at Dean, a smile pulling at its lips that looked so wrong to be on Sam’s face and it eased its way back up Dean’s body, face hovering just over Dean’s. “But I do know what he’s been going through. What he’s gone through. I know it all. All of his thoughts and desires. So sure, what he’s gone through would send most people to the nuthouse but he… that need that he has, he’s been like that forever. Ever since he was a tiny child, stumbling toward you on chubby legs.” The creature was barely speaking and yet it felt like he was screaming.

The memory of Sam, barely one year old, standing up on wobbly legs and he took his first step towards Dean, not Dad. Of course after that first step and then that second step, Sam fell forward but Dean was there to catch him and Sam stared up at Dean, eyes filled with wonderment and he giggled. Dean missed the way that Dad nearly choked back a sob because his youngest walked towards his eldest, not him but it had always been like that. Always. Sam went wherever Dean was.

Dean was the one that could bring Sam back down to earth when he and Dad got into it. Dean would clasp a hand around Sam’s shoulder and it would be all that it would take to calm him, just the least little bit. And it it was bad, really bad and Dean told Sam to think about what Dad was saying because honestly it was rational, Sam would shoot Dean a look that made Dean’s heart stutter for a moment. Sam would look at him like Dean had betrayed him and then he would run off somewhere with a huff and it would leave Dean feeling as if he had finally lost his brother for good, that it was the final straw. That Dean had followed Dad’s orders one too many times and Sam finally just left.

But Sam would always come back, his jaw locked and eye red and puffy like he had been crying and Sam would apologize. Apologize about running off and what he said to Dad. The only time that Sam would apologize about the fights he had with Dad was when he talked to Dean. Then he would duck his head and curl up underneath Dean’s arm and well, if Dean ever heard whimpers from the small boy tucked under his arm, well Dean didn’t say anything about it.

The creature was still on top of him, watching Dean’s reaction but Dean forced himself not to show anything, say anything because none of this was true. It couldn’t be.

He learned a long time ago that monsters liked to exploit your weaknesses. As much as they liked physical pain, the intelligent ones also liked to fuck with the mind. That’s all this leviathan was doing. Trying to make Dean think, make him hope that maybe his baby brother wasn’t as innocent as he thought.

The the monster closed his eyes and after a moment he shuddered. His whole body seemed to vibrate on top of Dean and when it opened its eyes, the smile on his lips seemed all the more sinister.

“July 4th of 1996.” It said simply and then waited, just waited for Dean to do something.

It didn’t take long for realization to happen across Dean. Seconds, maybe less it took for him to place that date, that memory, that moment with Sam that was probably ingrained in his brain, his heart.

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to keep his voice steady. “What about it?” He hoped that he could convey a sense of nonchalance but the monster could probably sense the way that Dean’s heart was not thudding in his ears.

“That’s when he thought you were going to do it, you know. Or at least hoped that you would.” It was still whispering, like what he was sharing was too dirty to be said out loud?

“What are you talking about?” He was actually surprised at how steady his voice actually sounded.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. That you’re innocent in this whole thing. You lead him on. Made him think, made him believe that maybe you wanted him in that way.” Dean’s heart rate seemed to accelerate all the more and he kept that same mantra playing in his head that nothing this monster masquerading as his brother was saying was true. He repeated that it couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be.

“He almost did it too. Almost kissed you. I bet you remember that exact moment that he leaned in to kiss you, don’t you?”

The solid resolve that Dean tried to keep up faltered for just a second and Not-Sam picked up on it. Saw the miniscule reaction from Dean and it was the small bit of response that it need to dig its nail deep underneath Dean’s skin and pry back all the layers.

“You do!” It laughed. “Yeah. I knew you would. He was going to kiss you but then you pulled him into a hug instead and broke his little heart. Made him believe that he really was the freak that everyone called him.”

“I couldn’t do that to him.” Dean explained to this false copy. “Sam… he was… it’s my fault that he felt like that and I couldn’t… I couldn’t ruin him like that.”

“But you ended up ruining him anyway. That’s why he ran away to Stanford. Because he couldn’t be in the same room as you without that feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him run off into the bathroom. He left because of you, Dean.”

Dean was shaking his head. “Don’t say that. Please.”

Believing that Sam ran away because he wanted to get away from hunting, because he couldn’t stand being within ten feet of Dad was one thing but believing that Sam ran away because of this, that he wanted Dean in  _ that _ way and ultimately Dean pushed him away… he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that.

Loving sam, wanting Sam like that kept Dean awake in the middle of the night because no brother was supposed to feel like that about their siblings. There were days that it made him so sick to his stomach because he knew it was wrong but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care. Not really. Loving Sam only seemed natural.

And every time Sam touched him, his skin burned to the point that he was sure there were going to be blisters. And when Sam smiled at him, Dean was sure that his heart was going to explode right through his chest.

He had come to terms with the fact that there was something seriously fucked in his head and that it was completely unrequited because Sam had run off to Stanford and found himself a beautiful girl and he was happy. And sure, after Dean got him from Stanford, they seemed to be even closer than ever before but Dean’s secret was his secret and it lived in the dark and that’s where it would stay.

And while sometimes it physically hurt him to be around Sam because he was this beautiful, innocent person who Dean wanted to do nothing more than corrupt, he had learned how to live with that burning desire.

Most of the time that meant killing things and drinking and sleeping his way across the great United States. Anything to keep that fire to a simmer.

“Why?” Not-Sam pressed. “Don’t cha wanna know about your brother, Dean? All the things that he wants?” Dean kept from saying anything, choosing to just stare up at the ceiling, to ignore the monster. “You can try to ignore me Dean but I’m still going to take what I want. And you can try to pretend that you don’t like it but…” The monster placed his hand over the growing bulge in Dean’s pants and squeezed lightly. Dean choked back that traitorous groan. “I know how your body reacts to this. Or at least… to Sam’s body.” He lead off with a chuckle.

“And you think that… that sleeping with me is going to  _ fix _ you?”

The monster shrugged. He ran his hands up the plane of Dean’s chest, running along the muscle and loving the way that even though Dean was still fully clothed, Sam could feel the way that Dean twitched at the feeling. It continued to trace up Dean’s body, along his neck, feeling the way that the muscles in Dean’s neck were tense before he grabbed Dean’s face, keeping Dean from moving at all.

Not-Sam kissed him. He gripped Dean’s face and lifted his head just the tiniest bit off the bed and kissed him but Dean didn’t kiss back. He laid there underneath him, allowed for it to manhandle him into the position that it wanted and Dean didn’t move.

It kissed Dean softer than what Dean expected. At least, at first. It was slow and tender and Dean kept his eyes open as he stared past the monsters head just looking up at the popcorn ceiling. Then Not-Sam licked at Dean’s bottom lip, seeking entrance but Dean didn’t open his mouth. He wouldn’t let it go this far.

Sex, he could fake his way through that. Didn’t take much. Touch here. Sigh there. It was easy for him to do but kissing, he couldn’t… he couldn’t fake his way through that and he  _ couldn’t _ kiss this… this  _ thing _ back.

The monster sighed and pulled away, a frown on his face and he tsked at Dean. “Come on, Dean, don’t be just a prude. I  _ am _ Sam. I have all his thoughts, his memories, just enjoy this.”

“But you’re not. You’re  _ not _ Sam.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” Dean felt like rolling his eyes at the statement but then Not-Sam was kissing him again.

This time it wasn’t as soft or sweet or tender. It was raw and possessive and the monster just took everything that it wanted, fingers digging into the side of Dean’s head, nails scratching at and breaking the soft skin.

Not-Sam kept kissing, each passing moment growing more and more urgent with need and he bit down hard on Dean’s bottom lip to the point that Dean involuntarily opened his mouth and Sam stuck his tongue in without much preamble, exploring Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean wanted to pretend that this was really his baby brother that was kissing him because then maybe this would have been easier to accept but the monster tasted nothing like what he thought Sam would taste. It tasted bitter and like death.

Dean felt like gagging and the monster was still kissing him, licking into his mouth and it was almost a knee jerk reaction but Dean bit down on the monster’s tongue to the point that he tasted blood and the monster jerked back, that smirk on his face.

It dabbed its tongue and pulled its finger away with blood on it and he turned his face to spit the rest of the blood out of his mouth.

“Dean… Dean… Dean…” It taunted. “Biting me won’t get me to stop.”

_ It might not make you stop but it’ll slow you down and it might give me time to figure out a way to get out of this. Either that or… or it might give Sam a chance, wherever he is, to come in and save the day, save him from the sin that was about to happen… If Sam was truly okay like he hoped. _

The monster sighed. “Fine. If you don’t wanna kiss then we don’t have to kiss. We can skip all the foreplay and go straight to the good stuff. No skin off my back. The sooner I can get out of this body, the sooner that I get to rip out your brother’s throat for doing this to me, the happier I’ll be.”

The monster reached into its back pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He flicked the blade open and placed the blunt edge on Dean’s cheek and slowly dragged the knife down Dean’s face, bringing goosebumps to the surface. It slowly pulled the knife down Dean’s throat, stopping briefly at the spot that it had already cut before dragging the knife even further down Dean’s chest stopping online when he got to the hem of Dean’s shirt. Then Not-Sam flipped the blade over to where the sharp edge could cut through the black cotton and drug the blade all the way up to Dean’s neckline, slicing his shirt open.

Dean’s shirt fell on either side of his body and Not-Sam let out a low whistle at the sight of Dean’s bare chest.

Then it moved further down Dean’s body, the knife falling to the bed beside Dean as it unbuttoned the button on his jeans and hooked his fingers underneath the hem of Dean’s underwear and pulled them down in one swift move, leaving Dean almost completely bare underneath Not-Sam.

“He always loved your body.” Not-Sam said, running his fingers up Dean’s thighs, up his chest before moving back down, his nails leaving red marks. “He wanted to look at you all the time. Almost feel bad for him that he’s not here to see this, that he won’t ever get to see this body.”

“Just get it over with.” Dean snapped. If the monster wanted to use him, he wasn’t going to be able to get out of that but he wouldn’t lay there and listen to that.

“In a hurry to get fucked, Dean?” Its voice was sugary sweet and just as dangerous. “But I’m not in a hurry. I’ve waited this long to get you like this, Dean. I might as well enjoy it.” Dean hated the way that he could only hear his brother.

Not-Sam stripped out of his clothes, dropping them to the floor and then he was back on top of Dean, legs braced on the bed around his shoulders, Not-Sam’s cock  _ right there _ , right over his mouth and Dean stared up at the monster above him. His stomach twisted once again because this was really happening. There was no way around it.

And while it wasn’t really something that Dean should have been worried about given the situation that he was in, he’d never been with a guy before. He liked the ladies. Liked the way the felt, how the sounded, how they tasted and this, this wasn’t something that he’s never done before. Sure, he knows what he likes, had plenty of girls suck him off but it was one thing to like something but something entirely different to put it in practice.

Not-Sam must have sense the apprehension or saw something in his eyes because he bent down, hovering over Dean and placed the palm of his hand against Dean’s cheek.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked and Dean shook his head, just barely. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. Just keep your mouth open and…  _ don’t _ bite me.” It was a threat, not a reassurance.

Not-Sam straightened back up and grabbed the base of his cock and placed the tip on Dean’s bottom lip. With his other hand, he threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair and pulled hard, prompting Dean to open his mouth.

Dean complies, opening his mouth so that Not-Sam can slip his dick in past his lips, going slower than what Dean would have expected, almost like he was taking care of Dean, not wanting to hurt the package before he really gets to use it.

Honestly, it’s not too hard to get past the salty bitterness of Sam’s… of the monsters cock. For him to fold his lips over his teeth so that he doesn’t accidently scrape Not-Sam and cause pain for himself and then it’s just the taste of flesh and a taste that has to be distinctive to the monster. Not-Sam groans and sinks lower into Dean’s mouth.

Dean relaxed his jaw and blinked around the tears that were starting to prickle at the corner of his eyes because Not-Sam continued to sink more into Dean’s mouth, hitting the back of Dean’s throat.

“Oh god, Dean.” Not-Sam groaned, low and deep as he held Dean’s head to keep him steady.

He’s gentle, slow thrusts almost like he’s testing out the way that Dean’s mouth feels wrapped around him before he starts moving faster, picking up the pace, pulling out and hitting the back of Dean’s throat. Dean tries to ignore his gag reflex as he tried to swallow around him.

“Fuck.” He drawled out, fisting a hand in Dean’s hair, rolling his hips against Dean’s lax mouth. “You feel so good. So wet. So hot. And those lips…” He traces Dean’s bottom lip with a thumb, loving the way they looked around him. “Do you like my cock in your throat, Dean?” Dean didn’t say anything and Not-Sam thrust hard into Dean’s mouth, making him choke and Not-Sam smiled. “Yeah, I bet you do. I’m gonna put it up your ass too. Bet you’re gonna like that even better.”

Dean shook his head, just barely and Not-Sam took it as a sign to speed up his pace, to thrust harder, deeper and Dean tried to keep his throat open as the monster fucked into it.

Not-Sam kept a tight grip in Dean’s hair as he fucked Dean’s mouth and Dean didn’t do anything but just lay there and try not to gag or let the tears that were burning in his eyes fall and he tried desperately to ignore the way that his cock was hard and wanting to be touched because as much as his mind was screaming at him that this was not his brother, it looked like Sam, sounded like Sam,  _ felt _ like Sam and his body reacted to that.

And he was ashamed for it.

Punched out grunts and moans fell past Not-Sam’s lips and his thrusts started to become more and more sloppy as he got closer to coming.

But then he pulls out of Dean’s mouth all of the sudden, body rigid, eyes darkened and Dean huffs in heavy breaths, trying to fill his lungs with oxygen and Not-Sam wraps his long fingers around the base of his cock.

“Such a pretty mouth, Dean.” There’s now a hard edge to Not-Sam’s voice and it sends a shiver down Dean’s spine.

Strong fingertips grip his chin, holding Dean there and then the monster runs his thumb back along Dean’s full bottom lip. Then he digs it into the hinge of Dean’s jaw, shoves his thumb in between Dean’s teeth forcing Dean’s mouth open.

Then Not-Sam is pinching Dean’s nose closed, forcing Dean to breath through his mouth and Dean’s worried that the monster might actually kill him, right here, like this, tied up to the bed with his mouth pried open. Not-Sam looms over him, his thumb still in Dean’s mouth and his dick is just resting there against Dean’s lips. The hand that isn’t holding Dean’s mouth open, ran down the side of Dean’s face, almost like he was laying claim to Dean’s skin.

Not-Sam wraps his hand back around the base of his cock and Dean jumps when he slaps it against Dean’s cheek, shocking Dean and he understand immediately what Not-Sam was doing. It was something to demoralize Dean, reduce him down to nothing and showing him exactly what his purpose was, what he was going to be used for.

That fear deep in the pit of Dean’s stomach only seems to seep through his body, at how quickly Not-Sam seemed to change, how quickly he went from something that could almost pass off as his brother to the thing that  _ he _ was.

A monster who took.

Pre-come seared across the stubble of Dean’s jaw and Not-Sam grabbed Dean’s head once again, both of his hands closing around the side of face, nearly covering his ears, muffling all sound and then he shoves back into Dean’s open mouth.

Not-Sam doesn’t give Dean an inch to breathe now, shoves all the way into his mouth, shifting his hands so that he pulled Dean’s head up off the bed and holds Dean’s head as he fucks forward. He stretches Dean’s mouth almost impossibly wide and this time Dean almost can’t ignore his gag reflex. He taste the sour taste of bile on the back of his tongue and now his nose is buried in the dark curls around Sam’s cock.

Stomach turning, Dean’s throat closes around Not-Sam and he tries desperately to not gag despite the fact that his body is rejecting what is happening. He can’t breathe. Not properly and his head feels light headed due to the lack of oxygen but Not-Sam just holds him even harder and it feels like his jaw is going to break with the way that the monster was pounding into it.

Spit sloppy, there’s a frantic sort of sound with every shove of Not-Sam’s hips, a sucking wet noise and somehow Dean’s mind turns to the gurgle of sloshing laundry. Absurd, and strange, but he feels like he’s drifting sideways and not really there. Not-Sam doesn’t pull back long enough for him to breathe through his nose. His mind’s going soft and his vision unfocused.

He shakes with the spiraling high of being out of control. Lets it wash over him. It’s humiliating, or it should be, to be so powerless. But it’s strangely liberating, turning him inside out and there’s a whole new topography, exposed and raw, beneath his skin that quakes to be so exposed.

And so he turns his body over to Not-Sam and relaxes as much as he can and lets the blurry haze of the outside world take him over.

Not-Sam has a hand wrapped around his cock and he’s trying to pump it as he fucks into Dean’s mouth and Dean’s lays there as pliant as ever. Then Not-Sam pulls back out of his mouth and air floods Dean’s lungs that it’s almost too much.

Hand picking up pace, stripping his cock still spit-wet and warm from his brother’s mouth, and Dean opens wide for whatever the monster will give, but instead of shoving back into the dark welcoming clutch of his mouth Not-Sam pulls back a little. Leans somehow even closer, curling over Dean, sliding a hand around his jaw to bristle the short hairs at his nape.

The first wet splash lands on a cheek and arcs up high enough Dean closes his eyes against it, feels it fall thick in his eyelashes and drip along the angled edges of his face. Bitter in his mouth and the scent is strong, almost familiar, tasting almost like Dean thought Sam would..

Dean keeps his eyes closed, mouth open, feels it streak across his face and the wet slide of Not-Sam’s cockhead against his lips at the last of it, pushing a few more pearl precious drops right onto Dean’s waiting tongue.

Then it’s all over. Just like that and Dean’s chest is heaving with deep breaths just trying to make up for what was stolen from him and suddenly Not-Sam is so soft again, cradling the side of Dean’s face, almost like he cares.

“Such a needy little bitch.” Not-Sam’s voice was gruff. “Needing to be taken advantage of. And god, I would. I would use this body. I would mark you up and hurt you. But I  _ can't. _ ” He growled. “When I think about it, about making you suffer, I all want to do is just hold you. That's what your brother has done to me. Made me soft. You're going to hurt, Dean Winchester. I'll make sure of it.”

Not-Sam runs two fingers along Dean’s cheek, swiping up some of come that was cooling on his face and forced Dean’s jaw back open as he stuck his fingers in Dean’s mouth.

“Close your mouth, baby. Lick it up, swallow it.” Not-Sam demanded and Dean closed his lips around his fingers, cleaning the pads of his fingers. Licking and sucking until all he tasted was the salty taste of skin.

Not-Sam pulled his fingers out of his mouth, them glistening with Dean’s spit and then Not-Sam collected more of his come on his fingers but instead of sticking his fingers back into Dean’s mouth, he moved down Dean’s body, settling in between Dean’s legs, prying his thighs open despite the fact that Dean struggled against it. Struggled to keep his legs closed, from this from happening.

But Not-Sam worked his way in between Dean’s thighs and ran his spit and come coated fingers over Dean’s hole, pushing just the tip of his index finger inside of Dean and Dean hated the way that his cock jumped at the feeling.

The monster smirked, not missing the way that Dean’s body tensed and the small gasp that fell past his lips.

Not-Sam worked the tip of his finger in a little further, stretching Dean a little wider and it burned. Then Not-Sam pulled his finger away and stuck them back in Dean’s mouth with the demand to suck. The wetter that he got Not-Sam’s fingers, the easier that it was going to go for him. Dean got his fingers as wet as he could before the monster yanked them out of his mouth and gathered another glob of come that was right above Dean’s eye before moving back down between Dean’s legs.

This time he stuck his finger in further, not taking the time to make sure that Dean adjusted to the feeling and Dean bucked at the intrusion but Not-Sam placed a heavy hand on Dean’s hip and held him down on the bed as he worked his finger up inside Dean even deeper.

Tears were starting to form again at the corner of Dean’s eyes and he tried to blink them away but he couldn’t deny the simple fact that it hurt. There wasn’t enough of anything, not enough spit and not even come and there wasn’t any lube to ease Not-Sam’s fingers inside him and Not-Sam didn’t seem to be stopping, moving his index finger in and out faster now with the seemingly intent to make it hurt.

“Please.” Dean quietly begged, begged for the monster to make this easier on him. There was a bottle of lube in the front of his bag and he was all the more willing to offer it to the monster if only it would lessen the burn of something being pushed inside of him. “Please. Get the lube or… or something

“What was that, Dean?” Not-Sam taunted. “You want another finger?”

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes, feeling the wet tracks that the tears left behind. Whatever calm that Dean had found, that place where he wasn’t really in his body, was ripped away with him and was replaced with nothing but pain. “No… no… no.” Broken chants fell from his lips.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Dean. If you just relax, you’ll like it.” Slowly another finger breached his rim and Dean’s body tried to clench together to ward off what was being pushed in him but Not-Sam only chuckled, pushing even harder.

A choked off shout escaped Dean’s mouth when all the sudden the monster shoved his fingers in deep, pushing them in all the way to the webbing of his hand and Dean tried to relax because the more relaxed he was, the less that this would hurt but his body wouldn’t respond to him. Not anymore. The only thing that it seemed to register was pain and hurt and that it was just ready for this to be over.

“Please, don’t.” Dean tried one last feeble time but Not-Sam only silenced him with a slap to the face that had Dean’s teeth rattling in his head. Then the taste of blood filled his mouth and the side of his face burned from the hit.

Not-Sam grabbed Dean’s chin, his fingers digging in deep making sure to make it hurt. “I don’t wanna hear anything coming out of your mouth until you’re begging for to fuck you. Do you understand me?”

“Ye… yes.” Dean stuttered out and this time when Not-Sam slapped him a quiet shout escaped Dean.

“What did I tell you?” The monster growled. “You are not to speak unless you are begging for my  _ dick _ up your  _ ass _ .” Dean didn’t make the same mistake twice and he nodded his head the best he could in the monsters hold.

The leviathan dug his fingertips just a little harder into Dean’s jaw before releasing Dean’s face. Then it removed his fingers from Dean and Dean opened his mouth expectantly, waiting to get them wet again but Not-Sam laughed.

“Oh, I bet you would like something in your mouth to suck on but you’ve already been given that privilege.” Dean closed his mouth, feeling the way that his body seemed to heat up in embarrassment.

Then Not-Sam was stroking his cock, pulling it back to full hardness and Dean stared at it with wide eyes because he was nowhere neared prepped enough for that to fit.

It felt like Dean was being torn in half when the leviathan finally pressed the tip of his cock to Dean’s hole and pushed in, slow but not slow enough and Dean couldn’t keep his mouth closed as he screamed out in pain. He thrashed against Not-Sam, trying to get away from the pain but he was held down by large hands pushing him into the bed and he couldn’t go anywhere but stay where he was or push himself onto Not-Sam.

However the monster moaned, low and deep, the sound vibrating his chest as he pushed into Dean until he was buried to the hilt in that tight, virgin heat. “So good, Dean. So fucking good.” Dean moved, trying to get used to what was inside of his body or get it out but Not-Sam ran his hands up Dean’s chest, hands landing on his nipples and he pinched them between his fingers.

Dean’s traitorous cock gave another weak jerk at the feeling.

“So sensitive.” Not-Sam praised. “Every little touch turns you on, don’t it?”

Dean didn’t want to say anything, he wanted to keep his mouth shut because while yes, his body was responding to this, he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to be touched like this while being tied to the bed like some cheap whore and what made it even worse was when Not-Sam tweaked his nipples or pushed up inside Dean and brushed against  _ that _ spot that made Dean’s insides turn to jelly, he made a sound like some cheap whore.

Not-Sam pulled almost all the way out and it was the briefest bit of relief that Dean was allowed to get before it thrust back inside of Dean and once again another sob racked Dean’s chest.

He can’t really breathe, his body overrun with pain and sensations that it was conditioned to like and he laid there underneath the leviathan as it pounded into him, whispered dirty words into Dean’s ear about how he was nothing more than a back alley slut and how he was  _ just made _ to be used like this. And every movement, every touch burned Dean, tore him apart, split open his skin and he was just begging for death.

“Please… please… please…” Dean begged and Not-Sam only moved faster.

He tried to find that place where he was there but his mind was somewhere else, detached from his body and every time when he thought he found it, Not-Sam moved just a little different, sending a whole new wave of pain through Dean’s body or he would slow down and drag it out. Of heaven forbid, he would lean down and bite Dean’s bottom lip red and raw, fingers pinching and squeezing his nipples.

“Get off… my brother.” A calm but dangerous voice pulled Dean out of his head and when he opened his eyes, Sam, his Sam was standing at the foot of the other bed, gun in his hand, pointed at the thing that had stolen his brother.

Relief flooded Dean’s senses and he immediately started to look Sam over, making sure that he was okay and the only sign of damage that he was able to see was a gash that was over Sam’s eye like he had been hit and traces of dirt and grime coating his face and arms. But other than that, he looked to be okay. Angry and making a point to not look at Dean but okay nonetheless.

The leviathan laughed as he rose to his knees and pulled out of Dean (which caused Dean to scream again and Sam flinched) all the while laughing.

“What are you going to do, Sam?” The thing asked, sounding cocky and so sure of himself. “You can’t kill me. Nothing can kill me.” It stated as it climbed off the bed and walked toward Sam, a smile plastered on its mouth.

Dean jumped at the sound of a gun going off and then another gunshot followed milliseconds later and the leviathan fell to its knees, screaming out in agony.

“No but I can still fill you up with lead and while decapitation doesn’t kill you, it sure as hell makes it hard for you to come back.” Dean watched as Sam pulled a machete out from the back of his jeans and then moments later there was the sickening sound of metal cutting through muscle and tendons and then the leviathan fell forward, head rolling off to the side.

The machete fell to the ground with a soft thump as Sam rushed to his brothers side and Dean was working against the binds that still held his wrist, trying to get the taste of bile off the back of his throat.

“You’re bleeding, Dean.” Sam said almost breathlessly, his hand hovering over Dean’s thigh like he wanted to touch Dean but wouldn’t allow himself to do it.

Honestly it didn’t surprise Dean that he was bleeding. The way that the monster was treating him, pounding into him, there was bound to be so tearing. His whole body ached and all he wanted to do was get untied and wrap himself in about a million different shirts and try to forget the whole thing.

“Just… just untie me, Sam. Please.” Dean begged, his voice rough from shouts.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, frowning at himself that he didn’t do that immediately, too shocked at the sight of blood, too shocked at the sight of Dean. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and Dean involuntarily flinched at the sight of it, desperately trying to ignore the way that he hated the feeling of the blade on his skin.

The moment that Sam had cut through the ropes, Dean rolled over to his side and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the carpet, coughing his way through it. His shoulders burned and his throat felt raw and there was a hand in his hair, tentatively running fingers through it, petting Dean through the shocks of finally being free.

“Stay right here, Dean. Imma be right back. Okay?” Sam sounded like he was right there next to Dean’s ear but he wasn’t aware of anything but the pain through his body.

But the moment that Sam stood from where he was crouching, Dean shot out and arm and closed his hand around Sam’s wrist, capturing Sam in an iron grip. “Don’t leave me. Please.” He begged.

Sam was safe. His Sam was safe and Dean needed safety.

Sam made a choked sound and managed to work his wrist out of Dean’s hold, running his hand down Dean’s back. Dean was shaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean. I promise. But I gotta clean you up. Okay? I’m just going to get a towel. I’ll be back in less than sixty seconds. I promise. Count for me, Dean. Okay?” Sam didn’t move until Dean nodded.

It took Sam forty-eight seconds to grab a towel, wet it with warm water, grab another towel and return back to Dean. When he walked back into the main room, Dean was curled in on himself, his head resting on the edge of the bed almost like he was preparing himself to throw up again.

“Dean?” Sam asked softly, crouching back down to where Dean was and he rested a soft hand to Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s lips were moving slightly, like he was counting down the seconds that it took until Sam came back.

Dean opened his eyes which were red and puffy but they were clear and Sam took that as a good sign. A tiny, good sign that meant that Dean was there with him. “Sammy.” Dean said, his voice slightly slurred.

“Yeah, I’m here, Dean. I’m here.” Sam looked down Dean’s body and then back up at his face, feeling repulsed at the fact that he could very clearly make out the handprint of a hand and there was drying come clumped on his eyelashes. Someone had taken his brother,  _ he _ had take his brother, a fighter, a warrior and reduced him to something that looked tiny and fragile and nothing like what Dean really was.

Sam ran the warm washcloth carefully over Dean’s face, cleaning him up, getting rid of everything that the monster had left behind. Then he ran the dry towel over Dean’s face, drying him and Dean laid there, pliant, watching Sam with wide, fearful eyes.

“Hey, Dean.” Dean made some sound that sounded like he acknowledged the fact that Sam was talking to him. “I’m going to clean your legs up, okay?” Dean made a pathetic sound almost like a whimper but he nodded regardless. “I promise to be careful. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Dean swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, hands fisting in the comforter and Sam made quick work to clean Dean up, his movements methodical, each touch had a purpose and he didn’t linger for long. There was blood and it stained the white towel and he knew that Dean was going to be sore… for a while but he looked okay. At least, okay enough to not go to the doctor. In fact, Sam wasn’t sure how Dean would react if he told him that he was taking him to the hospital. For whatever reason, Dean had a severe distrust of doctors despite the fact that they trained their whole lives to be what they are.

Sam wanted to get Dean under running water, put him underneath the spray of hot water and wash away every touch and lick and trace that the leviathan put on him but he had already wasted enough time cleaning Dean up. And while they were on the sketchy side of town, someone had to have heard those two gunshots and there was no telling when the cops were going to show up.

It wouldn’t look good at all for them to show up with the fake version of himself dead on the floor and Dean in the state that he was in.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam hated the way that he was talking to his brother. Like he was this small child who was scared of everything but Sam didn’t know how else to talk to him. “We’ve gotta go, okay? Do you think you can walk?”

Dean nodded his head and made a move to get up off the bed, trying to hide the wince as he moved but Sam helped him anyway. Sam didn’t say much other than brief suggestions towards Dean, wanting to make sure that Dean knew that he had a say in what was happening as Sam dressed his brother and Dean didn’t say anything at all.

He held onto Sam, making sure not to look at the thing that was on the floor dead and he dressed in what Sam had handed to him. A pair of boxers and some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Then Dean reached out and grabbed his jacket, yanking it over his body and pulled it tight. Sam didn’t say anything to that and allowed for Dean to pull on as many layers as he wanted.

Sam helped Dean get into the car and Dean mumbled out some comment about the fact that he wasn’t a kicked puppy and he didn’t need to be treated like one when Sam lowered him into the passenger seat which was once again reassuring because it meant that Dean was coming back to himself but Sam was slightly concerned about the fact that Dean didn’t even mention once that he wanted to drive the car or make some kind of comment about Sam better take care of it.

He told Dean that he wasn’t going to be gone for more than five minutes and Sam could see the fear starting to creep back into Dean’s face but Sam pulled out his phone and set a timer for five minutes and placed it in Dean’s hands. He watched the way that Dean clutched onto the phone like it was his lifeline, heart clenching at the sight.

As Sam gathered all their belongings, he didn’t understand how Dean could be this reliant on him when it was someone that looked like him that did that to him, hurt him in a way that no one should be hurt.

He shook the thoughts out of his head. That would be a question for another time, if Dean ever wanted to talk about it and Sam wasn’t going to press the issue. He stripped the bed of one of the sheets and wrapped the body up in it. Then he took one of the pillow covers off the cheap pillow and put the head in it, trying it off. He wasn’t going to deny the fact that it was strange to do this to something that looked like him.

First he stuffed the body in the trunk, wishing for a moment that he had help but he glanced up at the front seat and saw the way that Dean was still staring at the phone, clutching onto it.

Before he went back inside to gather the head and their bags, Sam stopped by the open passenger door once again and placed a hand on Dean’s knee.

“It’s going to be alright, Dean.” He said, lips pulled into something that could kinda resemble a smile.

Dean tore his eyes away from the phone and Sam thought that Dean was going to have some kind of quick come back. Be the cocky, self assured bastard that he was but instead he just stared up at Sam with eyes that looked more vulnerable than he’s ever seen them. “Is it?”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked back the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Sam wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince now. Himself or his brother.

Sam grabbed the rest of their things and left a few twenties on the night stand for clean up and for the fact that he had stolen bedding and dumped their things in the back before climbing into the driver’s seat. The keys were already in the ignition.

Wordlessly, Dean handed Sam back his phone and he was pleased to see that the timer was still clicking down. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see how Dean would react when the timer ran out, if he would react at all. Then Dean slid down the seat with another wince that he tried to hide and laid his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

Almost the second that Sam pulled out of the motel parking lot, Dean was quietly snoring in his sleep.

_ Good. _ Sam thought to himself.  _ Sleep all you want, brother. I’ll be here when you wake up. _

Sam drove through the night, putting as much distance between that motel room as he could. He stopped twice. Once to refill the tank (with the good stuff because when Dean was back to himself, he would rip Sam a new one if he had filled the tank up with the cheap stuff). The second time he stopped, it was a little after one in the morning and Dean still hadn’t woken up from since he had fallen asleep and Sam stopped on some bridge somewhere and tossed the body of the leviathan into the rushing water below. Honestly he didn’t care if it was found or not. All he wanted was for the water to cleanse its body and take it far, far away from his brother.

Dean shifted in his seat when Sam settled back behind the wheel and Sam watched his sleeping form, waiting for the moment for Dean to open his eyes and ask to drive but that moment never came.

Sam pulled in front of a hotel, an actual hotel and not some motel like they usually stay at. The kind of place that had the doors on the inside of the building, not on the outside and while he knew that it was going to be more expensive to stay there, Dean deserved a bed that didn’t have lumps in it and a place where the water pressure was more than just a trickle.

An old man who wore glasses on the tip of his nose checked Sam in and when the guy asked if Sam wanted a king size bed, Sam almost took him up on his offer because he wanted to keep Dean close even though they hadn’t shared a bed since they were kids but he said that he needed two queens. The guy rang him up and handed Sam the key and then Sam rushed back outside to his brother.

Dean groaned when Sam woke him up, mumbling incoherently about something but Sam eased Dean out of the car when he was awake enough to realize that they had stopped. Sam grabbed their bags and then helped Dean inside. Even when Dean tried to brush him off, he kept close to Dean, ready to wrap an arm under his shoulder should Dean need it.

But Dean never did. They got into their room and Dean settled down on one of the beds and was out the moment that his head touched the pillow, gone once again to the world.

Sam didn’t sleep, choosing to sit in one of the arm chairs that they had in the room instead of a wooden chair and watched over Dean while he slept.

When Dean woke well into the afternoon of the next day, Sam was lightly dozing in the chair that he had accidently fallen asleep in and Dean watched him for a moment, wondering why they were in a different room than what he remembering falling asleep in and then just like that, everything came rushing back to him.

The leviathan and it breaking into their room and tying him to the bed and…

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and wished it all away. Every last bit of it but it was brought back up to the surface when Dean shifted on the bed and his whole body screamed out at him in agony. A small whimper managed to leak past Dean’s lips and Sam was awake in an instant. He blinked once, twice, trying to orientate himself to the different room and then his gaze landed on Dean and Sam was by his side in a heartbeat.

“Hey.” Sam said in a soft voice, crouching down to where Dean was laying down, hand hovering over Dean’s shoulder.

“Hey.” Dean croaked back, throat still raw and he groaned when he swallowed because it felt like he was swallowing a million tiny shards of glass.

Another moment of apprehension passed before Sam finally said fuck it and he lowered his hand onto Dean’s shoulder and he almost felt like screaming out in joy because Dean didn’t flinch in the touch. If anything, he seemed to lean into it.

They stared at each other for a long moment, both brother trying to figure out exactly what to say to each other when Dean reached a hand out from underneath the covers and touched the wound on Sam’s forehead that had stopped bleeding but it was already starting to purple and swell. Sam winced, just an involuntary reaction that he didn’t have any control over and he hated his body for it because Dean pulled away immediately.

“What happened to you?” Dean asked, his voice rising and falling. “What did that  _ thing _ do to you? Are you okay?”

“Me?” Sam said with a breathy laugh. He could hardly believe his brother. He had been… been raped, body completely violated and taken from him and the first words out of his mouth was if  _ he _ was okay. “Yeah, Dean, I’m fine.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam, ready to call his little brother out at the first sign of a lie but there wasn’t one to be detected. “Seriously, Dean, I’m fine.”

“Yeah?” Sam nodded in response. “How’d he get the drop on ya? That’s a pretty nasty cut you got there.”

Sam shrugged because he wasn’t really sure to be honest. The last thing that he remembered was the fact that he had left the library to go back to the motel when something attacked him from behind, slammed his head against the side of the open door of the impala and he collapsed to the ground. Then he woke who knows how many hours later, in the middle of the woods, tied to some tree and the sinking feeling that something wasn’t right. He managed to work himself out of the knots and walked all the way back to the motel only to find his brother pinned underneath himself and tied to the bed.

“Don’t know.” Sam answered honestly. “But I’m fine. It’s you we have to worry about. You wanna take a shower?” Sam knew it was a stupid question but the last thing he was about to do was order Dean around to do anything. “You weren’t able to take one before we left and I was only…”

_ Only able to clean you up so much because you were spooked enough and the last thing I needed was for you to freak on me. _

Dean glanced down at his body which was still hidden underneath the blanket and then back up at Sam’s face, his heart starting to pound through his chest. He wanted to take a shower. Desperately wanted to. He could still feel that monsters fingers and mouth  _ all _ over him but the thought of leaving the safety of the little cocoon that he had created underneath the blankets has his stomach twisting in about a million different knots.

Sam sensed the apprehension and he removed his hand from Dean’s shoulder and rocked back on his heels, trying to give Dean the distance that he wanted. “I mean, I can help you if you want or… or I could…”

“No, Sam.” Dean huffed out a breath and any vulnerability that Sam saw completely disappeared, buried behind the walls that Dean had instantly built up. “I’m not a kid who’s been hurt. I’ve had worse.” He spit out. “I can take a shower by myself. Unless you  _ want _ to shower with me.” It wasn’t an invitation and Sam could taste the venom that laced Dean’s voice.

“No… no, you’re right, Dean.” Sam stammered out in reply and he stood up, stepping away from Dean and the bed, giving Dean even more room. “You’re right but just… you were…”

“I was what, Sam? Raped? Yeah, in case you didn’t know, I was there. I know that.” Anger swept through Dean’s body. At Sam. At himself for even letting it happen. For letting Sam think that he was weak. “I’m  _ fine _ .”

He wasn’t. Sam knew that but he knew that if he tried to contradict Dean, tell him that he wasn’t okay, he probably wouldn’t ever be, Dean would only shut him out and push him away more. So Sam let Dean throw the blankets off his body and he watched as Dean grabbed his bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

Sam fell on the other bed, the springs creaking under his weight and he stared up at the ceiling and wished that he could just completely reverse the past forty-eight hours and protect his brother for what happened to him. Because now, there was no way that Dean was going to talk about what happened to him and he was going to keep that locked deep inside of him until it consumed him alive.

Dean locked the door behind him almost absentmindedly, his stomach settling a little at the comfort that the lock brought into place and he dropped his bag on the floor. He moved in front of the mirror and dropped his hands down on the sink, letting his body sag forward as he looked at himself in the mirror.

The spot on his neck that the leviathan had first cut looked to be shallow and already scabbing over, just a superficial wound. Where his head was slammed into the tv stand looked to be a little deeper but being that it had stopped bleeding, he wasn’t sure if it would need stitches or not. Maybe foregoing stitches would keep the scarring to a minimum. But then along his cheekbone, under his eye, it was all black and blue, bruising in the shape of a hand that had slapped him not once but twice and when Dean poked at it, it brought small tears to his eyes at the sharp pain.

He dropped his head, letting it hang in between his shoulders and sighed deeply, fighting through the pain that the breathing brought. How had it come to this? How had did this happen to him? He was a strong hunter, raised into the life since he was a child, cold blooded throughout and yet, standing there in front of mirror in the white light, he just looked defeated, worn down.

Worst of all, weak.

He looked at himself in the mirror one last time, allowing himself one last second of self pity before he pushed it down deep inside of him. Dad always said that a good soldier didn’t feel anything. When they got hurt, the pushed it away and fought for the greater good.

And Dean Winchester was a good soldier.

He stayed under the hot stream of the water, loving the way that the good water pressure seemed to unravel the knots that were tied in his shoulders. He washed his body. Rubbing his skin raw with the hotel soap until his skin was bright pink and while he still felt dirty, could still feel dirty fingertips coating his body, he ignored it all and shut off the water, climbing out of the shower.

With every article of clothing that he slid on his aching body was like a piece of armor that he was coating himself in. With every piece of clothing that he pulled on, he was shielding himself from the outside world, picking up all the pieces that had fallen inside of him and pieced them back together with duct tape and superglue and hoped that it would hold.

Then he walked out of the bathroom, a different man than he was when he walked in.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands and when Dean made his presence known, he jerked his head up and Dean didn’t acknowledge the way that Sam’s eyes were red that was the tale-tell sign that his brother had been crying.

“I’m ready to go.” Dean said, trying to sound as much as the stoic soldier that he was despite the fact that his voice gave away every last bit of abuse that it had gone through.

Sam narrowed his eyes and raised from the bed and while Dean felt like taking a step back from his brother, to get a safe distance between the two of them because if Sam  _ touched _ him, Dean was going to break and he couldn’t break. Not now.

Not when Sam needed him to be strong.

Yeah, he had it bad and his body was going to hurt for days on end and who knows what the emotional toll will be in the long run… But Sam was still seeing Lucifer and Dean had to make sure that there was one level headed person between the two. So Sam, while he wanted for him to keep his distance but Dean held his ground as Sam approached him.

“Go?” Sam asked, coming to a stop in front of him but he stood just far enough away that Dean could breath easily, almost like he knew that he needed his space. “What are you talking about go?”

“As in finding us a case. Hunting monsters. You know, the thing crappy job that we do for a living.” Dean said, moving around Sam, looking for something to do.

He needed to do something. He needed to move and he couldn’t stand there and let Sam look at him with those big hazel eyes wide in concern. It felt like there were ants all over his body, crawling on him and through him and if he stood still long enough, they were going to eat him through and through.

Sam turned and watched as Dean made up the bed that he had just slept in, pulling and straightening the sheets as if there wasn’t a maid that was paid to do that. “Are you sure…”  _ that you’re ready for that? _ Sam almost finished but Dean shot him a look that froze the words in his mouth.

“There are people dying, Sam. The world doesn’t stop turning just because I get hurt.” Dean looked down at the made bed with a sigh before he glanced around the room for something, anything to do.

“But you were more than…” Sam trailed off with a huff as Dean started packing up his bag.

He zipped it up and then looked at Sam expectantly. “You wanna just find a hunt in the car. Don’t know about you, but I could really go for a burger right now.” There was a lightness to his voice but Sam could see the way that there was something in Dean’s eyes that were begging for him to just drop this and pretend that everything was okay.

Despite the fact that it obviously wasn’t.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, wanting to fight what Dean was silently begging for. He wanted to talk to Dean about what happened to him, wanted Dean get through this, not just push it away but… “Alright.” Sam finally said turning to pack up his own bag. “Okay, yeah sure.”

Dean was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to get out of the room and back out on the road. He was ready to get moving, go somewhere, put his mind on something that he was good at and that was killing monsters.

Sam followed Dean out of the hotel without so much of another word to his brother. When Dean opened up the trunk to throw his and Sam’s bag in, he paused, his heart suddenly thudding through his chest. The head of the leviathan was still tied up in the pillowcase, sitting right there just waiting to remind Dean of what happened. He closed his eyes, willing himself to get his breathing under control. It took longer than what he would care to admit but regardless he steeled his emotions and slammed the trunk closed and climbed into the driver's seat, ready to go where Sam directed.

The rumble of the Impala was reassuring underneath Dean’s hands. It provided him a sense of comfort, his very own safety blanket. Not that he needed one but still, he felt safe inside of the Impala.

“You know, we’re gonna have to get rid of that head before it starts smelling up my baby.” Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Sam looked up at him with wide eyes, remembering that he had forgotten to toss the head while he was driving as far from that motel as he could get and the last thing that he wanted was to trigger his brother into some kind of panic attack. Seeing the head of the thing that hurt you could do that. But looking at his brother, seemingly at ease behind the wheel, he seemed normal, like nothing had ever happened to him.

And that worried Sam.

Dean pulled into some diner that was settled along the side of the road a couple of hours later and Sam took advantage of the free wifi that they had to look for another hunt, which he found before their food had gotten to them.

They were back out on the road shortly after and Sam didn’t notice the way that Dean hadn’t finished all of his burger.

The hunt was easy as far as hunts go. It was a small nest of vampires that had gotten just a little too cocky in their beliefs at hiding what they were and the brothers took them down in a matter of minutes. While they were burning the bodies of the vampires, Dean tossed the head of the leviathan into the fire without so much of a second glance and he didn’t say a word about it.

After the fire was put out, they both piled back into the Impala, the windows rolled down and the cool night air blowing in through the windows. Dean looked good. He looked like he felt good. His skin was practically glowing with the moonlight that was bleeding in through the windows and his thumbs were tapping along the steering wheel to the music and while Dean looked like he never felt better, Sam felt like he was about to go crazy with this facade that his brother was alright.

“Dean?” Sam finally asked when Dean switched the cassette tape to something else and Dean glanced across the cab to look at Sam, that smile that was plastered on his face, just starting to fade.

“Hmm?” Dean replied turning to look back out the windshield.

“I wanna talk to you… about… about that night.” Sam messed with a loose string that was on his shirt.

A moment passed before Dean cleared his throat, his voice sounding tighter, more guarded than it was. “What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Everything. What happened to you. How you’re… how you can still stand to be around me when it was m… when it was someone that looked like me that did that to you.”

Almost as soon as Sam finished what he said, he could feel the air around them growing tense. Dean stopped drumming along to the music and he clenched his jaw as he stared ahead, deciding on how he wanted to answer his brother.

“It’s because I knew it wasn’t you, Sam.” Dean finally went with.

Sam waited for Dean to continue but his brother never did. “That’s not good enough, Dean. You can’t keep this bottled up inside of you, man.”

“Yeah, well what do you want me to do?” He snapped back.

“I want you to talk to me, Dean. Just talk.”

The Impala started to steadily gain speed as Dean pressed down harder on the gas pedal, his knuckles white against the wheel. “And what’s there to talk about? I was raped but then you killed the leviathan and I survived. End of story. There’s nothing more that we need to talk about.”

“Dean…”

“No, Sam. Just no. There is nothing else that needs to be talked about. What happened, happened and now it’s over and well, if you can’t move on from it, then that’s your problem but don’t push your problems on me.” With that, Dean turned up the volume on the radio, an obvious end to the conversation.

Sam stared at the profile of his brother, wishing there was a way that he could just get Dean to open up but… maybe, just Dean was right. He didn’t seemed fazed by what happened back in that motel room. He seemed normal, at least whatever normal meant in their life and yeah, it was Sam that was trying to make a big deal about this, forcing Dean to talk about things. Maybe Dean had moved on and that maybe Sam should too.

Except it wasn’t that easy, was it? Things were never easy in their life and it was never as black and white as “what happened, happened and now over”.

Dean seemed to revert in on himself. For days, it's been half finished conversations and bringing Dean back to the present and out of his mind. The one place where Sam  _ couldn't _ protect him.

And the few times that Dean would speak, it would to brush Sam off, tell him that he was fine and that he needed to stop his nagging because there was nothing wrong. Everything was alright. Really.

Of course, Sam didn’t believe a word that Dean said because Dean’s body spoke louder than his words ever could.

He doesn’t necessarily sleep anymore. If it does, it’s only for an hour and the only time that he managed to sleep more than an hour, he woke up in a cold sweat, hands clenched by his side and the blankets wrapped around his body felt like they were keeping him bound. And there was one night when Dean didn’t wake himself and Sam woke to find him tossing and turning, mouth parted like he was screaming and yet no sound came out.

It scared Sam more than he cared to admit.

Because Dean wasn’t well. No matter how much he tried to act like everything was fine, pretend that what happened to him wasn’t affecting him, it was clear to anyone that it was all just a front. A front to hide the fact that Dean all of the sudden felt like he was no longer in control of his body.

However, hunting seemed to keep Dean somewhat sane. The moment that they ended one hunt, Dean found another one to dive right in and Sam followed right behind, making sure that Dean didn’t get himself killed on a hunt.

It got worse the longer that Dean tried to pretend that nothing was wrong and that he was perfectly alright.

Sam found them another vamp case, somewhere down in the deep south where it was hot and humid and the mosquitoes were the size of small birds and your clothes stuck to you no matter how few layers you wore.

Dean was running on who knows how many hours of sleep. Every time that Sam woke up from his few hours, Dean was already awake, sipping a glass of whiskey or a cup of coffee, depending on the way that he was feeling that day. Sam learned not to question Dean about his sleeping habits nor about what his choice of morning drink was.

They were in an old warehouse, the doors chained shut that Dean easily cut through with a couple of pliers and the windows all along the building were broken.

Almost as soon as they walked into the building, they were attacked from all sides.

Dean was able to kill one of the vampires that came after him before he was knocked off balance by another one that came at him from behind, knocking him to the ground.

It knocked the breath out of him and then the vampire was on top of him, rolling him around to where Dean was on his back, facing the monster that was seated on top of him, snarling, its teeth bared, seconds from sinking into Dean’s neck.

His blade was off to the side, right within his reach and yet Dean couldn’t seem to close his fingers around it. His hand didn’t seem to work.

Like his mind and his body was suddenly disconnected.

He was back in that motel room, tied to the bed, completely at the mercy that was on top of him, whispering and snarling filth. The vampire smelled like rot and death and Dean felt the bile on the back of his tongue.

“Aw…” The vampire taunted. “Wittle hunter is all scared of the big, bad monster.”

Dean thrashed under the monster, still trying to desperately get free but he was stuck, frozen in place, whether by the vamp or by the memories that were so vividly playing through his mind, that was up for debate.

“Please… don’t do this.” Dean whispered, begging for his freedom like it was the only thing that he knew to do.

The vamp laughed. “You killed my sister. I have no sympathy for you. I’m going to rip out your throat and then I am going to stain my lips with your blood and after that, I’m going to find someone else to take my sister’s place and you…” But that was all that the vamp got to say until it’s head was hacked off with a sickening thud and it rolled off to the side.

The body fell forward, trapping Dean under even more weight and the scream that tried to escape his mouth was trapped in his throat.

Then all the sudden he was freed from the weight and he crawled backwards, as far away from the vampire that he could get, trying to get oxygen back into his lungs but they didn’t seem to want to expand.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice sounded muddled, like he was speaking through water. Dean started up at him, heaving in breaths of air that didn’t seem to want to come. “Dean, you’re alright. You’re okay, man. The vampire is dead.” He placed a hand on Dean’s knee and Dean seemed to relax into the touch. “You’re safe. They’re dead. Just breathe for me. Can you do that? Breathe.”

Dean tried and it was getting nowhere other than him trying to fill his lungs with oxygen and coming up short and even more winded.

“Okay, Dean. Just follow after me. Can you do that? Breathe with me.” It was three counts in and then three counts out and slowly Dean started to match his brother’s breathing, his heart slowly starting to beat back in it’s normal pace. “Yeah, just like that, Dean. You’re good. You’re safe.”

When the panic subsided and Dean was finally able to breathe again without Sam’s help and he was able to hear without blood rushing past his ear, he pushed up to his feet, bending down to pick up his fallen blade and walked to the Impala without another word.

That night when they burned the bodies, Sam watched his brother and hated the way that he thought that Dean looked like a corpse himself.

Dean doesn’t talk about that night with the vampires and Sam doesn’t ask but Sam’s relieved to find that Dean didn’t want to jump right back into finding another hunt.

It’s rough for the first couple of days. Dean sat at the edge of the bed, looking completely raw and exposed as he tried to work through whatever was going through his head. Sam tried to get Dean to talk, to tell him about what he was feeling, what he was thinking but Dean brushed him off, saying that everything was okay.

But then, just like before, he was back to himself. Better than himself actually. It wasn't like Sam was looking at this blank shell of a man anymore. There was light to Dean’s eyes, like he was actually seeing what was in front of him. He was joking with Sam, making jabs about his hair and how he always eats salads and almost anything else that he can tease his brother about. He hasn't asked for another hunt and Sam isn't about to thrust one upon them until dean explicitly asks for it. 

He knows that Dean isn't perfect. The fact that his diet consists of whiskey and half finished burgers was a testament to that but Dean was good. 

They were out on some old, back country road in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a destination in mind, at least not one that Sam was aware of and Dean just drove. 

The car, the open road, the freedom that it provided gave Dean the comfort that he needed that he wasn't stuck, wasn't trapped, pinned and helpless. 

The sun was just starting to set over the horizon, turning the sky into a painted picture of reds and pinks and oranges and Sam had his head buried in some book that he had picked up at a yard sale a couple of states over. It warmed Dean’s soul to see Sam, his dorky little brother, doing something as mundane as reading the book. Not to mention that Sam looked absolutely breathtaking sitting in the front of the Impala. The evening sun that was filtering in through the window turning Sam's hair a beautiful golden halo. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyebrows creased together like whatever he was reading in the book was confusing him and he just couldn't figure out the answer. The last that Dean checked, he thought that Sam was reading some murder mystery novel. 

But looking at Sam like that, so perfectly calm and at ease, stirred something deep within Dean. Something was set ablaze in the pit of his stomach and Dean had to turn his gaze back to the road because he was sure if he looked at Sam too long then he was going to burn from the inside out. 

The leviathan had said that Sam shared the same feelings that Dean felt, wanted Dean in the same way that that he did and Dean wanted to believe, almost needed to believe but monsters, especially the smart ones, like to have fun with their food before they kill them and Dean, well he thought, he believed that the leviathan was only telling him that to make him more compliant so that he could do whatever he wanted to Dean’s body. 

Dean made a choked sound that he covered up with a cough and Sam didn't look up from his book, still too intrigued by what was playing out with words. Dean never was one for the books, even his teachers told him that, that he was much better with his hands and there came a point that he stopped trying and just gave up.

But there was still that small part of him that wondered if Dad had been there to support Dean in his school career as Dean was in Sam’s then maybe he wouldn't have dropped out. Maybe he could have done something more than just being the grunt of the pair. He might amount to something more. 

But then again, maybe not. Maybe Dean was always supposed to be the one who worked with his hands while Sam used that big, beautiful brain of his. 

Dean sniffed once, swallowing thickly, trying to steel his nerves as he kept his eyes on the road and mentally prepared himself to ask Sam the same question that had been nagging him since the leviathan. 

It had been a little over a month since that whole incident and he tried to ignore the question the best that he could. He tried not to think about his brother, tried to think about hunting or driving or whatever else but in the end, it always came back to Sam.

“Don't mean to draw you from your nerd book, Sam, but I… I have a question for ya.” Dean’s voice was shaky and he wasn't sure if Sam could hear it. 

“Alright. Hold up.” Sam said as he searched for a bookmark because he hated to dog-ear the pages and then his attention was on Dean. “What do ya wanna ask?”

Dean glanced over at Sam, once before clenching his jaw. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He wasn't sure why he even thought to bring that up, not like Sam would actually give him a straight answer. The thought to completely play off the question crossed his mind but continuing to live in the land of not really knowing made him sick.

“The uh… the leviathan said some things. About you.” He said like that was enough information for Sam to pick up on. It wasn't even a question but Sam tensed beside him nonetheless. 

“Yeah? What'd it say?” Sam sounded calm but there was a bit of fear that laced his voice. 

“It said some things about you and the way that you feel about me.” There was an awkward pause and neither boy spoke to each other until it got to be too much for Dean and he had to keep filling the void. “Is it true? What it said?”

Sam was quiet for a long time and Dean wasn't even sure if Sam really knew what he meant. Maybe there was nothing there and he just made this weird between them and this conversation would turn into yet another thing that Dean shoved away and tried to forget about.

“Yeah.” Sam finally said, his voice low and full of shame. “Yeah, it's uh… it's true.”

“Okay.” Dean said because there was nothing else for him to say.

Sam looked down at his book, running his finger along the broken spine of it before looking back up at his brother. Dean looked tense, not as calm as he was just moments before, his jaw clenched and not for the first time, Sam wished that he knew what was going on in Dean’s brain. He was good at reading Dean, knew what his brother was thinking by just looking at his body language but Dean looked shielded, guarded like he knew that Sam was going to try to get something out of Dean and prevented him from getting it.

“I’m sorry.” Sam muttered, picking at one of the corners of the book, trying to distract his mind from the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I don't… I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean… I know it's not right and I just… made it has to do something with Yellow-Eyes, ya know?” The words started to pour from his mouth and he couldn't stop them. “Maybe that's what's wrong with me.”

“There's nothing wrong with you, Sam.” Dean said and Sam looked up at him with wide eyes but Dean was still looking at the road, the angry tick obvious in his jaw.

“But I…”

“There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with you, Sam.” Dean repeated, this time with more force.

Sam wanted to say more, say that Dean didn’t have to come to his defense like that, pretend that Sam was normal because he wasn’t but Sam kept his mouth shut and picked at the book once more before finally just looking out the window.

They didn’t talk about the conversation, at all. No matter how much Sam wanted to and no matter how much Dean wanted to discover just how much truth the leviathan had said but neither of them dared to say anything.

Things were okay between the two of them. Dean wasn’t great but he was better and while he wasn’t eating everything on his plate, he was eating more of it and that seemed to be a win for Sam.

And on hunts, there were only a couple of times that Dean seemed to freeze, body taken back to that place before he snapped out of it and completed the job.

And Sam was just naive enough to believe that Dean was actually getting better on his own.

It had been months since the leviathan and since that conversation and Dean was doing real good just ignoring everything that happened.

So that meant hunts. More and more hunts, all while trying to figure out ways to take down Dick Roman and get Lucifer out of Sam’s head.


	2. Chapter 2

“And you’re absolutely positive that this is the best way to get in there and get the sword? We can’t just break in like when he’s on one of those extended vacations that he seems to take almost weekly.” Dean groaned, pulling out the white shirt from his duffle. It seemed that he was going to have to dress up for the night, much to his dismay.

“Trust me, if there were an easier way, I would have found it but I’ve gone over the blueprints of the compound that he calls a house so many times that it’s seared into the back of my eyelids. This is the easiest way.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, taking a quick moment to look up at Dean before looking back down at the computer screen. “He’ll have two security guards at the front door, chances are all the alarms in the house are going to be turned off due to the number of guests that will be there tonight. We’ll slip into the artifact room, steal the sword and slip out without him, or anyone for that matter, being none the wiser.”

Dean nodded like he was listening… or at least, pretending to listen.

“Alright and how exactly are we going to be getting into the party. Sure he’s not just gonna let a couple of fake feds walk in through the door.” He didn’t know a lot about the elites but he knew enough to know that they didn’t want any kind of suit walking through the halls of their homes.

“Your lack of faith is kinda concerning, Dean.” Sam said shooting Dean a look. “Of course I’ve got a way in. I managed to snag a couple of invitations.” Sam leaned over to the bag that was sitting in the chair next to him and pulled out two envelopes that Dean didn’t even have to hold to know that the paper alone cost a fortune.

“Alright...” Dean sighed, reaching into his bag and pulled out a couple pieces of cloth, holding it against his shirt that was laying out on the bed. “So the real question is, what tie says that I’m a rich, pompous ass here to brag about my wealth?”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head slightly, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to show.

Ever since that run in with the dragon and the sword that Dean completely destroyed, they realized that it would probably in their best interest to have something like that in their possession. It’s not like there had been a lot of dragons on their radar recently but something forged in dragon’s blood, seemed like the kind of thing that could quite possibly kill anything.

They had made a few calls to people who they knew had one foot in the rare antiquities ring, telling them that if they heard anything about a sword that was supposedly forged in dragon’s blood, to call them. And if it proved to be the real thing, then they had one favor saved up, one big Winchester favor.

Just a couple days ago, Dean received a phone call saying that someone who allegedly had a sword was having a gala celebrating something and that if the Winchester boys were really serious about acquiring this sword then this would probably be the best way for them to snag one without ponying up a couple million dollars.

So that meant that for the past two days, both of the boys spent almost every waking hour planning the break in, the retrieval, and the break out and from the way it looked, they were going to have to just blend in with the crowd.

“Just so you know, this is probably one of the stupidest things that we have ever done. This is never going to work.” Dean grumbled, loosening the tie that was around his neck while he followed the mile long lit driveway to where he was going to have to, unfortunately, hand over the keys to his car to someone else for a couple of hours while he drank cheap champagne, ate mini shrimp and waited for the okay from Sam. “How the hell are we actually going to get that sword out of the house without anyone noticing?”

_ Is that a sword in your pants or are you just happy to see me? _

Sam sighed. “Again, your lack of faith in me is seriously concerning. You do what you do best, drink, flirt with the locals, fill your mouth full of food, and I’ll do what I do best and that’s stealing priceless artifacts without destroying it.”

Dean scoffed. “It was one time, Sam. One time and how else would you have gotten a hunk of metal out of a rock, huh?”

“Not blow it up with dynamite.”

“Yeah, whatever. It seemed smart at the time.”

Dean pulled up to the front of the house, sighing, clearly expressing his annoyance to turning his keys over to the grubby hands of the valet service, and took the invitation from Sam.

He knew that they were going to get in, I mean the invitation was solid and they sure as hell looked the part, cleaned, polished, handsome, had the air of certain arrogance but they still couldn’t shake that little bead of doubt in the back of their brains that they were going to get caught.

But the guard waved them into the home, handing back the invitations, asking for their phones (for the pleasure of all guests) and both of the brothers gave them a tight smile before trying to blend in with the crowd.

Sam reached into his pocket, pulling out an earbud that he had gotten from Frank and tried to hand it to Dean who looked down at it and then back up at Sam.

“You washed that, right?” Dean asked.

“Seriously, Dean, just take the ear bud.” He placed it into Dean’s hand. “Now I’ll be able to pick up just the barest hint of a whisper. You’re gonna be keeping an eye out. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes for me to get in there and get out.”

Dean put the earbud in his ear. “Tell me why we need these again.” He asked even though he knew. Just there was a certain bit of joy that he got out of Sam’s annoyed look at having to repeat himself  _ yet _ again.

“Because, I don’t know if you noticed, we kinda had to give up our cell phones to even get in here. This is our only way of communication for the next couple of hours. But they only work if we’re within a few hundred feet of each other.” Sam barely moved his lips but Dean could hear him loud and clear.

“Great, just what I need, you actually inside my head.” Dean muttered, messing with the ear bud a little more as if he was trying to get used to it.

“Whatever. Stick to the plan, okay? Go have a drink, loosen up a little, try to get one of the girls number, keep the dirty talk to a minimum and keep an eye out for me. Hopefully we’ll be out of here before midnight.”

They shared a look before both of them turned, setting off on their own, ready to do their respective jobs. There was a bar, in the back of the room that Dean made his way too. In addition to the much needed alcohol, it was place where he was able to see the hallway leading to the room that Sam was going to break into, plus there were two security guards standing within twenty feet of Dean and he was able to hear everything that they were saying.

He ordered himself a glass of whiskey, limiting himself only to one drink. He needed to keep a somewhat clear mind. At least for right now.

The guards were talking about nothing in particular, both of them looking bored while watching the crowd and Sam’s voice echoed in Dean’s head saying that he was now in the room.

“You find yourself a girl that you’re going to leave here with tonight yet, Dean.” Sam muttered, while he looked around the room, looking for where the sword was stored.

“Kinda hard to focus on beautiful women when your little brother’s annoying ass voice is in your ear. Since when do you hum so much?” Dean replied. However he found himself eyeing this perky little blonde who seemed to fill out that little black dress oh so perfectly. “But since you asked so nicely. I think I did. And I think she would look absolutely delicious all pinned underneath me.” Never mind the fact that Dean hadn’t slept with anyone since the leviathan and while he could still play the part of being the guy that sleeps across the United States, the thought of getting someone alone had his stomach twisting in knots.

“Will you just shut up, Dean?”

Dean smirked to himself, if Sam was in his head then he was just going to return the favor.

“You’re the one that decided that we needed these coms, you know, for better communication. And lord knows that you’ve bitched about wishing that I would just tell you what I was thinking from time to time. If I don’t start now, then when will I.”

Sam sighed. “First of all, I’ve never ‘bitched’ about you not talking to me. If you don’t want to share, then fine, I’m not gonna force you and when I say talk to me, I mean tell me what’s on your mind, emotionally not sexually.”

“Oh, so you wanna be my shrink now too. Screw with my brain a little.”

“You know what, Dean, you’re a freaking jerk.”

“Real mature there, Samuel.”

Sam growled, a sound coming from the back of his throat, as he shook his head as if that would get rid of the voice of his brother. He hated it when Dean backed him into this metaphorical corner where he was reduced to nothing more than childish retorts. God, what he would give to wipe that proud little smirk off his face that was most certainly there.

Dean continued to mutter filthy things under his breath that only Sam was able to hear, the smile never leaving his face. He loved hearing just how annoyed he could get Sam with just the sound of his voice. Mind you, it probably wasn’t the best thing to do when this whole mission relied on Sam’s undivided attention to grabbing the sword and getting out but when else was Dean going to have the chance to play with his brother like this?

Sam finally just stopped responding to Dean, trying to ignore him completely and it wasn’t too much longer that Dean fell silent, no longer having fun with a quiet brother.

“Alright, I think I found it,” Sam said after a few more minutes of silence. “From the way it looks, this isn’t a centerpiece for them. It’s just shoved in a corner pretty much. Won’t be missing it...hopefully.”

And at the same time that Sam was talking, the guards that Dean had been half watching snapped to attention, their relaxed pose disappearing as they listened to whomever it was speaking to them through coms like the ones that Sam and Dean were currently sharing. The guards shared a look with each other before abandoning their post all together and disappeared down the hallway. The very same hallway that the room that Sam was in was located.

He only got a few words from the hushed conversation but it sounded like they were headed towards the antiquity room.

“Sam. Sam!” Dean hissed. “You must have tripped an alarm or something. Security is coming your way.”

Sam mumbled a curse word under his breath. “What? Alright...uhh...go ahead and get out of here. I’ll met you up somewhere. Just don’t get caught.”

Dean’s stomach turned at the thought of just leaving him alone. “Are you sure? I could take them out. From what I see, there’s only two of them. I don’t think anyone else is coming.”

“No. Don’t do anything rash. Just go. I’ll figure something out. They’ll know that I came in here with someone else. This place is heavily surveillanced. Get out of here before they try to connect the dots and get the both of us.”

“Dammit, Sam.” But he had already turned on his heel, heading towards the front door. “Just be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. I better see you tomorrow morning, bright and early, first thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just go.”

True to what Sam had said earlier, the range of the coms were only a few hundred feet and once he had gotten his car back and was driving down the driveway leading away from the house and his brother, the breathing that he had grown so used to in his ear was suddenly gone.

He went back to the motel room and changed out of the fed suit and into something that was a lot more comfortable and sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing the clock on the wall, his nerves increasing with every passing second.

He hated this. He hated this waiting game. Waiting to see if Sam had made it out alright. Waiting to see if he was in lock up somewhere. Sam was a grown ass man, old enough to fend for himself. He didn’t need Dean picking up after him anymore but it still didn’t stop the ever growing pit of worry growing in his stomach. Sam was his little brother. The only reason that he had to live and he just left him there in that house, all alone, without any backup, no weapons of any kind, nothing at all.

His leg wouldn’t stop bobbing up and down, hell, it seemed as if it was too much for him to sit still. The clock on the wall wasn’t moving any faster. It was the same constant tick tock that was slowly driving him to insanity.

He needed coffee or just straight up caffeine. He would have loved a drink, a good strong drink but he wouldn’t allow himself to get drunk. No, if he hadn’t heard from Sam in the morning by six, he was going to march right back to that house and tear down every wall until he found his brother. Dragon killing toothpick be damned and he couldn’t do that when his mind was all screwed up with alcohol.

There was a diner right down the street, not too far from the motel. Open twenty-four hours, served fresh coffee, homemade pie. It was all the sugar that he needed to wait out the...he looked back up at the clock...the seven hours and thirty-three minutes that Sam had to come back to him.

The diner was all but empty when he pulled up in front of it, pocketing his keys and taking a booth in the back. An older woman walked over to him with a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other and a huge smile on her face that frankly seemed to be out of place this late in the night and filled up Dean a glass without him even having to say anything.

“Will coffee be all for you tonight, sir, or may I interest you in something else?” She asked, her voice dripping with a slight country accent. It was almost the voice that a mother would have, the kind of voice that would lull him to sleep if he wasn’t so amped up.

“What do you have in the interest of pie?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice chipper. He needed to have something more than just coffee and besides, what was a tip on a cup of coffee, like two cents?

She deserved a hell of a lot more than two cents for how long he planned on staying there.

She glanced over her shoulder to where the pie display case was and turned back to Dean. “It’s seems as if there is only a single slice of pecan left. Is that alright?”

He nodded. “That sounds perfect, thank you.”

She brought him the final slice of pie, setting it down in front of him, offering some whipped cream which Dean denied saying that there was no need to ruin the perfection that the pie already was with some sugar and cream and she left him.

He really didn’t feel like eating. Every bite was like lead settling in his stomach. His phone danced in his hand, flipped back and forth as he waited for a phone call from Sam that he was never going to get. There was no way that if Sam made it out that he was going to stop for his phone.

The woman continued to keep his coffee warm, making sure that it was always topped off and even asked him if the pie was okay when she noticed that he was doing more pushing it around on the plate with his fork than actually eating it. He reassured her that the pie was fine, great in fact, it was just that he was waiting for someone and wasn’t sure if he was actually going to show.

Before the woman’s shift was over, she came over and squeezed Dean’s shoulder reassuringly, telling him that whoever he was waiting for was going to show, he just had to have a little faith. Dean tipped her generously, thanking her for everything and she smiled before disappearing out the door.

The girl who replaced the woman seemed to be a little more interested in her phone than actually taking care of him, and for the first time that night, his coffee went cold sitting in front of him.

He looked down at his phone again, still expecting it to light up any second with Sam’s name across the screen and yet it stayed black. He flicked the screen on, dialed Sam’s number and impatiently brought the phone up to his ear, hearing the endless ringing until it went to Sam’s voice mail.

He sighed loudly, his leg bobbing up and down and he couldn’t sit there anymore.

Something happened. Something had to have happened to Sam. Either he got caught and he was currently sitting in county lock-up right now as some cop ran his fingerprints and found the half dozen outstanding warrants that he had. And then that would be the last that he saw of his brother. Sam would be carted off to god knows where and Dean would still be sitting at the diner, anxiously waiting.

Or… his stomach dropped at the thought… or maybe there was something supernatural there in the house that they didn’t know about. Maybe it had taken Sam, held him captive and now he was trapped.

He pulled out a couple of bills from his wallet and dropped them on the table, probably more than what the coffee and pie cost and most definitely a bigger tip than what that new waitress deserved but he didn’t care. He needed to get out of that diner. He needed to get back to the motel, he needed to figure out what he was going to do to get Sam back. He had to figure out how to get Sam away from whatever had taken him.

Because that seemed to be the obvious answer, that something had taken him.

The drive back to the motel was a short one and he was sure that he had broken about seven laws to get back to the motel.

Dean was bent over his duffle, trying to get together his gun and make sure that he had enough ammo and his mind wouldn’t stop racing. If something had taken Sam, then why hadn’t he tried to reach out to Dean. I mean, Sam was smart, he would have figured something out and it had been hours since he told Dean to leave. Plenty of time for him to get in contact with him.

Unless… his stomach dropped. Unless the reason why Sam didn’t try to contact him was because he thought that he was already with him.

There were leviathans still out there. They were all over, following orders from Dick and they couldn’t be killed. And he knew that he burned the head to the leviathan but that didn’t mean that it didn’t somehow figure out how to reconnect to its body and now, he was taking his anger out on Sam. Sam who didn’t deserve any of this.

His heart was beating out of his chest, blood pounding past his ears and he almost didn’t hear the door to the motel being opened.

He turned, his gun loaded and in his hand and he was ready to tear down hell to get his brother back and Sam was standing right there, right in the middle of the doorway. He looked tired but he was safe and there in his hand was the sword.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam said with a tired smile but he looked happy.

Then Dean was on him, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket and shoved him up against the wall, every bit of anger and fear that he felt suddenly coming out. Sam hit the wall hard, his breath knocked out of him and the sword fell to the ground with a muffled thud. They were so close, barely any space between the two of them and Dean didn’t look like he was going to let go anytime soon.

“Where were you?” Dean asked. Sam could hear the fear in his voice.

“I had to hide out. You were right, I tripped a wire or something and I…”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Do you?” Dean spit, pulling Sam off the wall just a little before slamming him back against it as if to emphasis his point. “I thought… Sam, I thought  _ he _ had gotten you.”

Sam furrowed his brow, trying to piece together what Dean was saying, who he was talking about.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you, Sam.” Dean confessed and just like that the anger and fear of waiting on Sam and not knowing where he was or if he was okay was suddenly gone and it was replaced with the urge to know that Sam was actually okay.

He needed to be closer. As close as he could get to Sam.

“You’re not going to lose me, Dean. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Sam said, trying to keep his voice light but there was so much behind his words that he hoped that Dean could hear.

“Shut up.” Dean hissed, fisting his hands into Sam’s jacket to the point that his knuckles turned white. “Just shut up, Sam because you can’t… you can’t promise me that.  _ He  _ could… he could come back, take you from me.”

It clicked in Sam’s head, who he was talking about. “Dean,  _ it's _ dead. Or at least, as close to dead as we can get it.  _ It’s _ not going to come back.  _ It’s  _ not going to take me or hurt you.” Sam clasped his hand around Dean’s hand, the touch reaffirming what Sam was saying. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Stop worrying about me. I’m fine.”

“No. Dean, you’re not. And you haven’t been since the leviathan hurt you. And I know that you think that you can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. Talk to me, Dean. Please. Just this once, talk to me.” Sam begged.

Dean loosened his hold of Sam’s jacket, releasing the hand that Sam wasn’t holding and petted down the fabric, rubbing Sam’s chest. “I don’t know what there is to talk about.” Sam opened his mouth like he was going to object but Dean started talking before Sam could. “I mean, you want me to tell you that I get panic attacks now of being held down and not able to move, not able to do anything on my own volition. Or do you want me to tell you how desperately I wish that it was you? That I wish it  _ had _ been you and that you wanted me like that because I’ve wanted it for so long and I know that you said in the car tha…”

Sam leaned forward, taking a huge leap of faith and kissed Dean. Grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled Dean in toward him and kissed him.

Dean stayed there frozen, unable to really do anything other than just feel Sam up against him because this was how it was supposed to feel. Sam pulled away when Dean still hadn’t moved and he looked fearful that he had finally pushed his brother away when Dean closed the distance between the two of them once more and kissed him hard.

This is what kissing his brother was supposed to feel like. Sam’s lips were soft against his own and he tasted sweet and it was something that Dean wanted more of. He kissed Sam until he couldn’t breathe and then he pulled away, resting his forehead against his brothers and it all felt  _ right. _

Sam waited on Dean, let Dean take this where he wanted to take this despite the fact that he wanted to do nothing more than have Dean throw him down on the bed and take him whichever way he wanted.

But then Dean mouthed his way along Sam’s jaw, hands clawing at Sam’s shirt, bunching up the material and hiking it up to Sam’s chest and this was just as good. Dean’s teeth sank into Sam’s neck, biting the flesh hard enough to hurt. One of his hands slid down the front of Sam’s jeans and cupped the hard line he found there and they both groaned simultaneously.

“I want this, Sammy.” Dean panted against the side of his neck. “I… I need this.”

There were words ricocheting around in Sam’s head, words that he needed to say but he couldn’t get any of them to pass his lips. Dean was grinding his palm against Sam’s swollen cock and it felt like everything in Sam's’ body would just fucking burn up and flutter to the floor. Sam’s head was on the verge of exploding. He clawed at Dean’s back, his hips instinctively thrusting up into Dean’s hand and Dean only held him closer.

“I’m yours, Dean.” Sam finally managed to say. “Take what you want.”

Their mouths were together again, moving wet and ceaselessly and Sam clung to his brother just as Dean clung to Sam.

Dean ran his hands up Sam’s chest, running his hands over his shoulders and pushing the suit jacket off and to the ground. The wrinkles are going to be a bitch to get out in the morning but at the moment he could care less. He’s got Sam up against him, begging for things from him that he wanted to give and it’s all too much.

Then he fisted his hands back in Sam’s shirt and yanked him off the wall, turning his brother and then gently pushed him down on the bed. Sam went easily, trusting Dean with his body, giving Dean everything that he could give.

Dean toed out of his shoes and shrugged his jacket off to the ground and then he’s back on top of Sam, trapping him underneath his body and Sam grabbed Dean’s head, gently pulling, asking for Dean to kiss him again.

Dean happily complied, dropping down to his elbows and he kissed Sam, holding his brother flush against him.

Sam did what Dean wanted him to do. He wasn’t about to force Dean to do anything that he didn’t want to do. This was all for Dean. Whatever he needed, he was going to take and Sam was going to gladly give it.

“Sammy…” Dean muttered as he unbuttoned the white shirt that Sam was wearing, exposing Sam to him.

Sam lifted himself up on his elbows so he could remove his shirt the rest of the way and discarded it off to the side and Dean broke the kiss just long enough for him to pull his shirt off too.

Dean trailed a hand down Sam’s body, feeling the muscle that was hardened from hunting all the way to the waistband of his pants and just ran his fingers above the hem line there, just barely teasing. Sam tried to stay as still as he could, wanting to buck up against the feeling of his brother but he willed himself to stay there. Let Dean take this.

Slowly Dean pulled off Sam’s dress pants, pulling down his underwear immediately after and then Sam was completely naked underneath Sam and he didn’t feel exposed. This only felt right, like it was supposed to be like this always.

Dean looked down at Sam, eyes still so shielded and Sam wanted to break through that shield. He needed to see what Dean was thinking.

“Sammy… I can’t… I can’t do…” He was shaking his head and Sam sat up, bringing his hand up to cup the side of Dean’s face.

“We don’t have to do this right now.” Sam reassured. “Not if you don’t want to. I want to do whatever you want to do. But know that I do want this. I want you. All of you, anything that you’re willing to share. But you’re in control, Dean. You control what happens.”

It was what Dean needed to hear or at least it seemed like it was because all the sudden Dean was looking at him, really looking at him and Sam saw nothing but love and want and fear.

Dean quickly got rid of his pants and then he was kissing Sam again, hard and feverish, acting as if he stopped he would never be able to kiss Sam again.

Dean moved his hand up and down Sam’s cock, jerking him off with as much love and devotion as he could. It was slow and rough and it had Sam writhing underneath Dean, fingers digging into the comforter.

He’s beautiful like this. Beautiful pinned underneath him and Dean knows that it’s  _ his _ touch that’s doing this to Sam. He’s beautiful with sweat starting to shine along his tanned body, looking up at Dean, mouth slightly agape.

Dean feels weak, like he’s going to break at any moment. That this dream was going to shatter and he was going to wake up in a world that doesn’t have Sam wanting him. He has to bite his lip, focusing on nothing more than his breathing and the constant movement of his hand because if he listens to Sam’s breathlessly moans, this is all going to be over way too soon. 

He wanted to drag this out, make it last, cause fuck, he’s waited his entire life.

Sam keeps bucking up into Dean’s hand, trying to take more from Dean but Dean pins him down on the bed with his other hand, keeping him still.

However Dean can’t keep still. He’s hard, painfully so and he keeps trying to find some kind of friction to keep that burning desire a low simmer. Then he adjusted their bodies to where their dicks lined up almost perfectly and Dean wrapped his hand around the both of them. He whined at the feeling, at Sam being so close and it was just on this side of too much.

“Shh…” Sam muttered, running his hand through Dean’s hair, grounding him when Dean whined. “Shh, Dean, it’s okay.”

Dean can’t get enough of Sam. He wanted to touch him, to feel him, to taste him, to hear him. He wanted everything, so much so that it’s a sensory overload and he’s sure that he’s in heaven.

Dean’s still running his hand up and down their dicks, slowly picking up speed, ever so often running his thumb over the head of their cock, causing full body shivers. Sam grabbed onto Dean’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into his back. It’s almost painful but Dean only wanted more. The pain seemed to keep him there, in the present and he needed to be there with Sam, not somewhere else.

“You’re so perfect, Dean.” Sam muttered, whispering praise to his brother and Dean closed his eyes as he rested his head against Sam’s forehead, only moving his wrist faster.

It didn’t take much more until Dean was coming on top of his brother, coating Sam’s stomach in white and watching Dean completely bare himself to Sam pushed Sam over the edge. He dug his fingernails in harder, to the point that he was sure that there was blood and grunted as he came, still wrapped up in his brother.

Then Dean rolled off of him, chest still heaving and there were almost tears in his eyes and Sam didn’t press for anything else. Instead he just wrapped his brother up in his arms and thanked whoever there was to thank for giving him this small bit of his brother. It was going to take time, to get Dean to completely open up but it was to be expected. Sam didn’t think that Dean was ready yet. Not to do this with him but Dean was always surprising his brother.

Dean rolled over on his side and tucked his head into the side of Sam and they fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other.

He was cold when he woke, his body whining in protest as his fingers searched for the warmth that was his brother. Only the other side of the bed was cold and empty. He cracked open his eyes still not quite awake to realize that Dean wasn’t still sleeping beside him.

It was still early. Way too early for Dean to get up on his own and yet his side of the bed was bare. Sam dug the heel of his hands into his eyes, chasing away the sleep that was still threatening to pull him under and rolled over.

Dean was sitting at the small table there, laptop open, cup of coffee in his hand as he was probably searching for another case. Something twisted in Sam’s stomach as he sat up, the blanket falling around his waist. Dean glanced up; the light from the laptop illuminated his face. His eyes trailed down Sam’s neck body, lingering for just a second on the place where the rest of his body disappeared underneath the blanket before looking back at his laptop.

“Sorry if I woke you.” He grumbled, his voice completely void of emotion.

Sam swallowed thickly, shifting on the bed, pulling the blanket back up his body just a little more. He suddenly felt so exposed despite the fact that nothing was really showing.

“You…you didn’t.” He stuttered. He cleared his throat, trying to find the courage to say something else. This wasn’t what he imagined that he would wake up too. Sure there was bound to be some kind of backlash. Dean was great at denying his emotions but he didn’t expect to wake up completely alone. “Do you want to talk about… you know… what happened last night?”

Dean shot another look at Sam, face still void of emotion but there was a glimmer of something that he couldn’t quite place.

“What’s there to talk about?” He asked.

Sam wasn’t sure how Dean was able to keep his voice so steady. He was shaking inside and out. His heart was thudding out of his chest and yet Dean seemed as cool and calm as ever.

“I don’t know. I mean… do you… do you regret it?”

Another quick glance and Dean’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something but he kept it to himself.

“Okay.” Sam looked down at the white sheet that was wrapped around his body, picking at the end of it. “Alright. Um… Do you just want to forget what happened?”

“Do you?” Dean answered a little too quickly, his voice going up a little bit at the end.

Sam looked back up at his brother only Dean was focused on the laptop screen in front of him. The bright white light creating harsh shadows on his face. Sam wasn’t sure why he asked. It was obvious what the answer was because if it were anything else then Dean would still be in bed beside him and not looking at his laptop like it deserved his attention more than Sam did.

“Yeah.” Sam choked out the word. “Yeah… I think… that would be best, you know, for the both of us… to just forget.”

The moment that he spit out those words, he wished that he could have taken them back. Dean’s gaze shot up from the laptop and landed on Sam with the most pained expression for the briefest of seconds before his face returned to steel. However his eyes still held a glimpse of the surprise, of the pain of what Sam’s words had brought to him.

“Okay.” Dean said, the word chilling Sam to the bone and that was it. He returned to whatever he was looking at on his screen and Sam was left feeling even colder than he ever had before.

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam slinked out of bed, picking up his fallen clothes and disappeared off into the bathroom. A few moments later, the otherwise quiet motel room was filled with the sound of water hitting the ceramic tub. Dean dropped his head in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose wondering if the pain that he felt in his chest would ever go away.

It wasn’t right that he felt this way towards his brother. It wasn’t right that he had actually… he wouldn’t let himself even think about what he did last night.

He had done a lot of fucked up shit in his life before. Some of the things he did had him questioning his sanity but it was all in the name of the job. He did what he had to do to save the civilian but there was nothing that he could say here that would ever make  _ this _ right.

What he had done was unforgivable. No matter how much Sam seemed to want it. So this was for the best. If Sam wanted to just forget about it like he had suggested, than that was what he was going to do.

It might actually save Sam’s soul.

He found them a case being that he woke in the middle of the night with shame and guilt and his baby brother wrapped around him and he couldn’t stay there any longer. If he occupied his mind with the thoughts of monsters and evil then he didn’t have to think about the fact that he had done the one thing that he should have never done.

Sam stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed not that it had mattered much. Dean had already seen everything that Sam had to offer and there was nothing else to hide.

“I found us a case,” he muttered, closing his laptop only to stand and grab himself a small glass of whiskey before they set out on the road.

Never mind the fact that it was the early hours of morning and absolutely way too early for it to be socially acceptable for him to be drinking hard liquor but hey, it was five o’clock somewhere and that’s all that mattered.

Dean is different. He’s reckless, even more so than usual. It’s something that Sam isn’t used to. He’s restless. He can’t stay in a single place for long, always wanting to be on the road, hunting down monsters, saving the girl. Plus there was the fact that Dean was hardly ever sober anymore.

It’s not that he’s constantly drunk; it’s just that he’s always ever so slightly buzzed. It was concerning at first. It was very concerning that Dean was all too willing to turn towards the bottle to forget about everything but he seemed to function just as he would if he wasn’t drinking. The only thing that seemed to be different was the fact that he didn’t seem as tense anymore. He seemed to be looser around Sam.

And Sam was not oblivious to all of the lingering touches and the stares and the fact that he did everything in his power to get a smile from Sam. There was this nagging thought in the back of his head that Dean seemed to forget that they came to the agreement that they would just remain brothers and wouldn’t be something that the leviathan wanted them to be.

Though the odd thing was, Sam was okay with it. He was okay with it just like he was okay with the realization that the leviathan wasn’t lying about Dean’s feelings. But if Dean wanted to pretend that nothing happened between them and still act like they were brothers, if not something just a little more, than he was okay with that. At least he thought he was. He and his brother, they had always been something more even before the incident. They were always close, always different than other siblings and maybe that’s what Dean was trying to get them back too.

Maybe Dean was trying to take them back to a time where they were both oblivious to everything.

However every time Dean looked at him, there’s betrayal in his eyes. Sam knew that he broke something that he didn’t even know that he had the moment that he suggested that they just forget about what happened between them that night and everything that the leviathan had done.

Something in Dean had changed that night when they were wrapped together. He had opened himself up and Sam had gotten a chance to see Dean in a way that he’s never seen him before but now he’s even more shut off. Even more reserved even though he’s trying to pretend.

But Dean is different. He wasn’t the same man that Sam knew before the leviathan had caught him. His eyes were darker, the shadows seem to stick to him and while he would smile, it wasn’t the same. Nightmares plagued Dean when he would finally fall asleep and Sam had lost count of the number of nights that he woke to find Dean trapped underneath his blankets, sweat beading at his hairline as he screamed out.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that Dean seemed to wear those shadows beautifully. The sharp edge to his jaw, the way that he was so undeniably reckless now, just running into the hands of death and then laughing afterwards.

He was darkness but there was a light to him that drew Sam to him like a mayfly to a gas lantern. And if he wasn’t careful he was going to get burned.

The hunt wasn’t easy. They never seemed to be but there was something about this one. Sam’s muscles screamed with protest as he pulled off his torn shirt and slid another one on, one of Dean’s that he had brought to Stanford with him. He wasn’t even sure if Dean noticed it was gone.

He ignored the fact that Dean seemed to watch him, standing in the dark on the opposite side of the Impala, seeming to drink in the way that the moonlight danced across Sam’s skin as he pulled the shirt over his broad shoulders.

Sam had seen Dean drink a lot. Whiskey seemed to be the only thing that he drank now. But he never drank so much that his senses were impaired. He was always just sober enough to drive in a straight line and knock someone on his or her ass if they tried to pull something. So it surprised Sam to see Dean taking shot after shot, drinking nearly half of a fifth of whiskey all by himself in the little bit of time that they were at the bar.

They were playing pool just because they could and it was late and there was nothing else to do but to shoot some pool and Sam could hardly remember the last time that he picked up a pool cue. He didn’t play a lot when he was away at Stanford and Dean was always the one that would play whenever they were low on cash recently. To say the least, he was rusty at best.

Dean didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arms around Sam’s, lining him up for what would be a perfect shot.

Sam clenched his jaw, chest tightening when he felt Dean’s hot breath on the back of his neck and the low octave of his voice as Dean told him to relax. He was suddenly a teenage boy again with hormones racing through his body that he wasn’t sure how he was deal with. He could still remember so many years ago when Dean had first taught him how to play pool in a bar much like this one and Sam was so much worse than he actually was because he couldn’t focus on anything but his brother.

“You’re tense, Sam.” Dean muttered against him. “Just relax.”

He still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to relax when all he felt was the hot line of Dean’s body running up his back.

He sank the ball into the pocket, muscle memory coming back to him and Dean removed himself from Sam but his hand was still on his lower back, fingers just resting there and Sam was so confused because even before the incident, Dean never touched him like this and this was so very wrong because it was against what they agreed too and Sam couldn’t bring himself to admit that… because he liked it.

He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he wanted Dean to touch him like that again. God, he craved affection. He was starved for it and Dean was basically serving it to him on a fucking silver platter.

Dean wasn’t sober, that was clear by the way that his words were slightly slurred whenever he tried to talk and his eyes didn’t focus on anything for long and he seemed to be using that pool cue for support a little more than he should but Sam wasn’t exactly sober himself.

And Sam was surprised when he won his second game in a row and Dean shot him that proud little smirk of his and closed the little distance that was between them and kissed him.

It was wet and sloppy and Dean wasn’t himself but he seemed to sober up when he pressed his lips against Sam’s and Sam didn’t know what to do with himself because he was confused as hell.

This was his brother who wanted nothing to do with him. His fucking big brother and he was here in the poorly lit bar kissing him next to the pool table and Sam wasn’t pushing him away like he should because he was the sober one. He should be the one to end this but he didn’t.

However that didn’t mean that actually Sam kissed him back. He stood there, frozen, tasting the whiskey on Dean’s breath. When Dean pulled away, there were a million different things that played across his face. The longer they stood there, so close but so far away, without saying anything,

Dean’s face fell.

He was always a master in masking his emotions but when you introduced alcohol, that steel that he hid behind melted away and Sam saw everything.

Sam saw the hurt in Dean’s eyes yet again when he just stood there.

Sam was confused. So fucking confused and he didn’t know what to say or how to say it or do anything other than to stare and try to process what just happened and what it meant.

Confusion quickly turned to anger because he wasn’t ready to face the idea that Dean had agreed to something that he didn’t want to agree to at his behalf. He wasn’t ready to admit that he had once again screwed up.

Why did things have to be so difficult? Why did Dean had to leave him alone in that bed and make Sam think things that weren’t the truth and he was just now realizing that.

“What the hell was that, Dean?” Sam hissed, his voice raised ever so slightly but it wasn’t so loud that they drew the attention of everyone else around them. He could still feel the ghost of Dean’s lips, the taste of his mouth.

Dean took a half step back, stumbling just a little, suddenly very aware of how close they were and he looked down at his shoes, unable to look anywhere else and shrugged his shoulders.

The cocky confidence that was always on his face seemed to have all but disappeared.

“You don’t…” Sam closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, go get in the car. I’ll pay for the drinks.”

That was the only thing that Sam could say at the moment. It was either that or he would start demanding some answers, preferably while Dean was pinned underneath him, naked, shouting out his name.

“Okay…” Dean’s voice was low, quiet, and it pulled Sam from his thoughts and back to the reality for what just happened.

His brother just kissed him for the second time on his own accord and Sam was too confused to do much of anything. I mean, sure, Dean wasn’t sober but that wasn’t an excuse and the leviathan had said that Dean wasn’t right in the head.

But Sam wasn’t either, was he?

He paid for drinks quickly and he was momentarily surprised when he saw Dean sitting in the passenger seat, head bent, looking down at his hands that were folded in his lap, waiting for Sam to finish up inside. Dean didn’t say anything as Sam slid into the driver's seat and handed the keys to him, head still bent.

He was quiet, all too quiet and as much as Sam wanted to have answers, Dean had sobered up now and there was no way that Sam was going to get the answers that he wanted. Not now.

They didn’t say anything about that night, didn’t bring it up and tried to go about their business as normal but Dean could never quite bring himself to meet Sam’s gaze and now every touch seemed so wrong no matter how right it felt.

The veil that they were hiding behind was now gone and everything was brought out into the light of day.

They fucked up on hunts now. Either they would get hurt or someone else would get killed and it was all because they couldn’t read each other anymore because they weren’t even looking at each other. They’re movements were clumsy and they didn’t talk and nothing was right.

There was nothing familiar between them now.

Dean drinks. He drinks more now than ever and Sam isn’t stupid. It’s because of that night in that darken corner of that bar in some town with a name that they’ve already forgotten.

It’s because he was stupid enough to believe that Dean wanted to forget about the night after the leviathan.

And it hurts because if only Sam hadn’t said anything, let Dean come around to everything that had transpired on his own accord, if only he had kissed him back in that bar, they wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

They wouldn’t be strangers with the same last name.

**Author's Note:**

> please please please tell me what you think. any thoughts, comments or opinions because this was kinda different than what i normally write and i would love to know what y'all thought.


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